


Origamis

by DJayJay, koalabear77



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bike Accident, F/F, First Meeting, Fluff, Mention of blood, aden loving lexa, aden not loving bellamy, always fluff, because why not, beginning of something, clarke loving lexa, deliveryperson!lexa, everybody loving aden, godmother extraordinaire octavia, happiness, lexa being a sweatheart to aden and clarke, no one dies, only fluff, singleparent!clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJayJay/pseuds/DJayJay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalabear77/pseuds/koalabear77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke waits for someone to be able to take care of her boy's injured wrist when Lexa steps in the hospital, bloody and selfless. Things definitly works out better than expected for a night at the hospital. </p><p>Or, </p><p>Clarke is a single mom and Lexa can make a rocket ship out of a piece of paper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rockets and Lotus

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ! I know this has nothing to do with the ghost!au I'm writting at the moment but I had this in one of my folders and after the heartbreaking events we went trhough, I thought I would be good to give some fluff and happiness to the world. 
> 
> This might have another part later, I have a few scenes I think of for this AU, but I don't know when I'll get time to writte something else than the ghost!au.
> 
> I'M LOOKING FOR A BETA, if anyone has some time to waste !
> 
> Edit : found a beta, thank you Koalabear77 ! Go say hi to her @ imjustakoalabear on tumblr !

 

You’re sitting in the emergency waiting room, Aden sitting on your lap, head buried in the fabric of your shirt while he holds his injured wrist in his tiny hand. No one had been able to help you so far; no matter how much Aden cried, none of the nurses had been able to register you so that they could give him some pain medication. Of course, you gave him some Tylenol before coming to the hospital, but as long as his wrist isn’t put in a cast, the pain will subsist.

 

You try to soothe him the best you can by caressing his hair and humming lowly some pop songs you know he likes. It seems to work for now, as the crying has stopped. There’s still a few sobs escaping his throat once in a while, but you guess the Tylenol is giving him some release.

 

The hospital seems to be buzzing. It had to happen today, of course, on a Saturday night. Aden being the daredevil he is, he didn’t hesitate to jump from the couch. It’s something he has been doing since he can walk, but you recently bought a new carpet, and when he landed the fabric slipped on the floor and Aden fell backward, catching himself up with both his hands behind him. The cry of pain that followed his landing had you running to the living room, and not even ten minutes later you were flying off your apartment to go to the hospital.

 

But on a Saturday night, in a town full of students, there’s no way you could go as fast as you’d wish. The nurses are overwhelmed by the number of patients coming in and are having a hard time following the motion. There are not so many doctors, you notice. You’ve only seen a few interns and maybe two residents.

 

You haven’t hope for it in more than two years, but now, you kind of wish your mom was here.  Working at least - things would have gone way faster if she were. Last time you saw her, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon – she probably still is, workaholic as she is – and she was fast. You kind of wish she would have been the one to take care of Aden tonight (but since she kicked you out when you told her you were keeping the baby, almost three years ago, you guess there’s no way that would happen).

 

You’re focused on Aden, on playing with his hair, when the E.R door suddenly opens and someone shouts that they need help. Aden and you both turn your heads to see what’s happening.

 

A young woman is holding another one in her arms, seemingly unconscious from what you can see from here. You see a doctor running toward her as soon as she ends her sentence and you recognize him - Thelonious Jaha. He was the chief of surgery three years ago. 

 

With your mom working here, you almost grew up in this very hospital. You would go to the childcare of the hospital, eat with the nurses once in a while, go to the intern’s break room, and more than once sleep in the chief’s office while waiting for your mom. Sometimes, a two hour surgery would turn into a four or ten hour one and the childcare would close before your mom could pick you up. So Jaha would come and bring you into his office, letting you sit in his chief’s chair. Wells was often here, too. His mother being out of the picture, he would stay with his dad. You two would draw on the chief’s desk and then fall asleep on his couch until your parents could bring you back home.

 

The lady holding the other one puts her on the ground and Thelonious is checking her vitals while listening to the first one.

 

“I was biking my way home when she showed up out of nowhere. I think she’s highly intoxicated. She has been unconscious for ten minutes at least.”

 

“On my count,” Thelonious calls, and two nurses and one intern gather around the unconscious body. “One, two, three.” They lift her up and put her on a stretcher before rolling her toward the examination room.

 

“Miss,” the intern says to the other woman, “you need stitches. You’re bleeding too much.”

 

That’s when you notice that she’s injured, too. Her jeans are torn out and you can see the beginning of a cut on her leg. The rolled up sleeves of her shirt allow you to see that both her elbows are bruised and bloody, a thin line of red going from there to her hands.

 

“I can wait. Take care of the people that were here before me.”

 

And with that, she grabs a registration form from the Home Office and walks her way to the waiting room. Focused on the way she is walking, like she can’t feel any pain while being hurt and bloody, you don’t notice Thelonious coming out of the examination room, his phone at his ear while looking in your general direction.

 

Aden is captivated by this woman probably as much as you are, as he watches her sitting more or less in front of you on one of the only vacant chairs.  She taps both her jean pockets and her shirt’s before sighing to herself with a shake of her head. No pen, you guess, and you guess right. She lifts her glance to look around her and that’s when she catches Aden’s eyes right before she sees yours. She raises a brow at you, as to ask you why you’re looking at her, and while holding Aden with one hand, you grab your pen on the chair next to yours, on your register form, and hold it up for her to see. She sighs again and stands up from her chair, nodding to the chair next to yours. You free it from your belongings and the lady sits. You give her your pen without any words, and she takes it without saying anything either.

 

Aden shifts a little on your lap, turning himself so that he can see her better. She has a sharp jaw covered in mud and a little blood. Her left cheekbone is bruised, a little sharpened but not bloody, and her lips are pink and plump. She has piercing green eyes mixed with some soft blue, and she bites on her lower lip when she reads the registration form and tries to think about what she needs to write on it.

 

Her hair is a masterpiece, though. Brown and long, with braids of all size and kind, pulled back on her head so that there is none falling on her face. There’s a least twenty braids in there, and it’s kind of crazy to think that she takes the time once in a while to braid her hair in that intricate way.

 

“Thank you for the pen,” she says in a low deep voice, smaller than when she was speaking earlier, as she hands you your pen back.

 

“The nurses aren’t really free right now to record new registration,” you tell her, and she nods.

 

“Saturday nights are crazy, with all the students parties, so many drunk people going around the streets. I had to force myself to fall from my bike to avoid hitting the one I brought.”

 

“Did it hurt?” Aden asks with curiosity while eyeing the bruises on her.

 

“Just a bit,” she reassures him with a warm smile – and okay, that’s some shiny smile she has there – “but what happened to you?”

 

“I jumped!” he exclaims excitedly, and he tries to speak with his arms like he does all the time. He may have forgotten about the pain for a few minutes but as soon as he tries to raise his hands, he winces, and it only takes a few seconds for tears to sparkle in his blue eyes.

 

“Hey, hey,” you say as you caress his head, “you’re okay, love, I promise someone is going to take care of that soon.”

 

“It hurts,” he groans, and you check the time on your watch. You can’t give him Tylenol again so you take a look at the desk. No nurses back. Shit. You rock him back and forth slowly on your chest as you take your phone out of your pocket.

 

“I have an idea,” the woman next to you says, and she takes her phone out as well. She unlocks it in a few movements and gets into her video folder. Before you realize what’s happening, Aden has the phone – way too big for his tiny hand – on his leg and a cartoon is playing on the screen. You’re kind of shocked, because who the hell has cartoons on their phone, but this is honestly the best idea you’ve seen all day.

 

“If you focus on that, you won’t feel the pain, promise,” she says to him in a soft voice and he nods at her before looking back at the screen.

 

“If he’s focused, he won’t try to move. I have a few; I hope it’ll be enough.”

 

“Thank you, you’re a life saver, uh…”

 

“Lexa.”

 

“Lexa, right, I’m Clarke and this is Aden,” you say with a caress on his head. He’s not even paying attention, too focused on the cartoon playing on the screen.

 

“Nice to meet you two. How did he hurt himself?”

 

“As he said, he jumped. He tends to jump from everything he can, but I put a new carpet in the living room, and that was a bad idea. It slipped when he landed and he fell backward on his hands.”

 

“It’s probably just a sprain; he’s going to be okay soon.”

 

“You forgot to tell me you were a doctor,” you say with a little sarcasm, and she smiles warmly again.

 

“I’m not, I’m not even studying medicine. But I work part-time as a biking delivery person, and the amount of accidents I've had since I started is kind of crazy. I almost deserve a loyalty card. I think I came at least three times in the past two months, four with today.”

 

“And you can’t, like, avoid coming? I mean, I’m definitely one to avoid the hospital when I know I can; it’s expensive.”

 

“It is, but my work insurance covers it all and my boss won’t take any risks. And I often need stitches, so it’s kind of hard to avoid.”

 

You go on with the conversation, asking her what kind of things she delivers, until the door of the E.R opens again, a tall blond woman you don’t pay attention to coming in. She takes a brief look at the waiting room and goes to the desk, noticing no one is here, she sighs and walk towards you.

 

“Clarke,” she says, and you have to leave Lexa’s eyes to look at the newly arrived person. You stop breathing for a second there because it’s your mom, and she blankly looks at you, and you have no idea what to do right now.

 

“Give me your registration form.” You hand it to her without a word, and Aden looks at her before leaning a bit into you, his back against your chest, becoming shy.

 

“Miss Woods,” she says, turning to Lexa, “I am sure I told you not to come back in my hospital any time soon two weeks ago.”

 

“Someone jumped in front of me. I had to avoid her,” the brunette says with a shrug.

 

“Registration form,” she holds her hand out to her and Lexa gives her the paper. “I’ll call Indra for your stitches.”

 

“I might need an x-ray. I think I injured my ribs.”  

 

Your mom sighs loudly and hurries you to stand up and follow her. “Woods, you too”, she says when she notices Lexa not standing up, and the brunette gets up from her chair and follows you.

 

“Examination room 5, Clarke. I’ll take care of the forms and get changed, be back in a few.”

 

You nod and go to the room in question without even thinking of the road you need to take to reach it.

 

“Well, it seems like I’m not the only VIP here.”

 

You sigh a bit as you open the door of the fifth room, coming in and sitting Aden on the examination table.

 

“This woman,” you say to Aden more than Lexa while you cradle the little kid’s hair, “is my mom. So she’s your grandmother,” you explain and he makes a face.

 

“Yes, I know I never told you about her before, and that you never met her, but she’s an amazing doctor. You’ll see, she will take great care of you.”

 

“You’ll be with me?” he asks with a shy voice, and you smile with a nod before dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “Of course, love.”

 

“And I’ll tell you, little one,” Lexa ads as she kneels a bit in front of the table so that she’s at his height, “Doctor Griffin took care of me on my last visit here, and she’s really great and sweet.” As proof, she lifts the fabric of her pant on her left leg and shows him the still angry red scar she has on her calf. “Of course, you won’t need stitches, but when she did mine, it didn’t hurt one bit.”

 

“What happened?” he asks curiously, and you and Aden both listen to Lexa’s tale. She was on her bike, working the evening shift after a crazy day at college. She had to go to a restaurant on the far north of town to retrieve the food her customer ordered before going straight to the South.

 

“… As soon as I receive the food, I have thirty minutes to deliver, so I had to go really, _really_ fast to be on time, and it was raining, so it wasn’t really helping. At a crossroad, I slowed down slightly and got up on my pedals to check on the traffic, to see if I could go without stopping, and as I couldn’t see or hear anything close by, I sped up. That’s when that asshole on his bike came from my right and we crashed into each other.

 

“He was working too, for another delivery company, and we were both running out of time so we just insulted each other before apologizing and getting back on our bikes. I did my delivery on time and the customer had noticed my torn out pant. It was my last delivery for the night so I just biked to the hospital right after and Doctor Griffin yelled at me for a solid five minutes before stitching me up.

 

“She’s really good at lecturing people,” you mention and Aden pulls at your shirt for a second. “She going to yell at me?”

 

“Of course not, love, she will take care of your wrist and only that. But she might yell at _me_.”

 

“I’m pretty sure she’ll yell at me first,” Lexa says with a smile, and when your mom comes in the room, she eyes the three of you suspiciously. “Woods, you speak first, what happened to you?”

 

“As I said, I was biking home when some drunken girl showed up out of nowhere. I had to avoid her so I kind of jumped from my bike, but I was going at full speed. The landing wasn’t pretty.”

 

“Still not planning on stopping biking? It’s going to kill you someday.”

 

“It pays well for a student job.” Lexa shrugs and your mom sighs. “Where does it hurt?”

 

“It doesn’t really hurt, it’s just uncomfortable when I breathe. The cuts don’t really hurt either.”

 

“We’ll run the x-rays before I call for Indra. Clarke?”

 

“He jumped from the couch but there’s a new carpet in the living room and it slipped beneath him. He fell backward on his hands and hurt his wrist.”

 

She writes in the patient chart what you just told her as soon as she finishes filling Lexa’s.

 

“Let’s look at that,” she says before putting the chart down and walking towards the examination table. Aden holds tighter on your shirt and you soothe him by drawing circles on his back with your hand. “It’s okay love, she’s not going to touch anything, just look. That look will determine if you need x-rays.”

 

“Okay…” he nods as he lifts his head higher and opens the hand hiding his wrist until then. The sight of his hand pains you, as he pays extra attention to not move it under the eyes of the doctor. It’s swollen from his wrist to his fingers and you feel guilty for putting that carpet in the living room. Hell, you don’t even need a carpet.

 

“I don’t think it’s broken”, your mom says after looking from a few angles, “but we’ll run an x-ray just in case.”

 

A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you kiss the top of Aden’s head. “Do you remember Superman from the cartoons you watch in the morning?” you ask him and he nods. “Sometimes he does that thing with his eyes that allows him to see inside walls?” He nods again and you keep going, “that’s how x-rays work. It’s going to look inside of your wrist and take a picture of it, just to make sure nothing is broken inside. Okay?”

 

“That cool!” he says excitedly. “I wanna see the picture!”

 

“You will,” your mom promises with a warm smile, “now let’s do those x-rays.” 

 

You take Aden down from the table and put him on the floor. You crouch in front of him to be at his height. “Would you mind walking with Lexa to the x-rays? I’ll be right behind with the doctor, okay?”

 

“Right behind?” he asks, worried.

 

“Yes love”, you say with a nod and a caress to his cheek, “right behind you, I promise.” 

 

He nods his understanding of the situation and you look up to Lexa, realizing that you didn’t even ask her if it was okay. You’re about to when she smiles to Aden, “Come, little one, I’ll tell you a story about Superman.” She starts walking out of the room and Aden follows her happily as she starts talking about Superman and all of his awesome super powers. You exit the room a few seconds after them, your mother hot on your heels, and you gulp loudly. You thought of speaking to her, asking her why she was here, but you kind of want to yell at her first. Because she kicked you out and now she shows up out of nowhere, and this is too much for you to take.

 

“Thelonious called me,” she says before you even start speaking, “he said you were in the E.R with your boy and that there were too many people for him to be able to take care of you.”

 

“Late, much,” you mumble and she stops walking. “Clarke, listen.”

 

You take a look at Aden and Lexa, who are waiting for you at the corner of the corridor, and stop walking too, turning your attention back to your mother.

 

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I am the one who taught you to love every life and I got mad at you when you told me you couldn’t get an abortion and I truly, truly am sorry for that.”

 

She stops talking for a second, trying to collect herself, to find the right words before she opens her mouth again.

 

“My real problem wasn’t the baby, honestly, it was... Finn.”

 

“Well you’ll be glad to know you were right about him, he left to weeks after Aden’s birth, he couldn’t handle the crying. I don’t even remember him holding him once…”

 

“I am not glad, Clarke, I am sorry. Sorry I kicked you out when you needed my help, sorry Finn doesn’t realize his loss, sorry for all the time I wasn’t here. For you and for him.”

 

You don’t really know what to say. That is not really how you expected your night to go; you expected watching a movie with Aden, him falling asleep in your lap. Then you would have tucked him in his bed, warm under his covers, before going to bed, too. You would have read a few chapters of whatever book you’re reading at the moment, texted Raven and Octavia to update them on your life, and then you would have fallen asleep.

 

You didn’t expect Aden to hurt his wrist and to meet Lexa and to face your mom. You gulp, holding back tears you’ve been holding for a while. All the nights you thought you would never be a good mom, all the times Finn proved himself as an asshole and the night he left, Aden’s first teeth and your sleepless nights, all the tears you held for the good of your boy threatening to fall down in that very moment. You look down at your feet for a second, breathing heavily to regain control over yourself and finally, without looking at her, you open your mouth, “He could use a grandmother. I mean, if you want to know him, he could use a grandmother.”

 

Abby puts a hand on your cheek softly and makes you lift your head. She smiles warmly at you, before bowing down and dropping a kiss on your forehead, like she would always do. “I would love to,” she says, looking at him, “he seems to be a very great boy.”

 

Then she looks back at you, eyes shining bright, “I am really proud of you, Clarke.”

 

You let your head fall down again, a single tear running down your cheek as your mom gets closer to you, putting your head on her chest. You lift your hands and hold tightly on her blouse and she surrounds your back with her arms, a firm hug for you to share. A few other tears roll down your cheeks, salty on your lips, but it feels good to let go so you let them. You stay like this for a few seconds, a few minutes maybe, before your mom reminds you that you should really go get those x-rays done, and you nod against her chest before lifting your head again. You make quick work of wiping your tears with the back of your hands. She smiles warmly at you again, and you share a nod before turning your head towards Aden. Your little toddler found his way in Lexa arms, she’s holding him against her chest, her head turned to the side so that he can see her braids. You smile at the sight, one more tear running down as you think of all the things Aden will be able to share with your mom now that she’s back in the picture.

 

You start walking, Abby right behind you, and it doesn’t take long before you’re next to Aden. “Hey buddy,” you say as you hold your arms toward him and take him from Lexa. “Thank you,” you mouth to her, and she just shrugs before Aden takes a closer look at you. “You cry?” he asks in a tiny voice and you smile at him, kissing his cheek. “Happy tears, love, happy tears. I’ll explain it to you later. Let’s take the pictures of your wrist first.”

 

He nods, and your mom leads the way to the x-ray room. Lexa insists that Aden go first, assuring you that she can wait, and your mom is the one to take him inside the room. You stay in sight so that he doesn’t worry too much, but you also keep an eye on Lexa. She’s pale, really pale, and she seems to be leaning against the wall so that it holds her. You take a look at her pants, remembering the intern earlier, the one that told her she was losing too much blood. It has been at least an hour and a half since then… and the end of her jean is bloody red. She suddenly lifts her hand to her head, massaging her temple and breathing in and out slowly but heavily. She’s trying to keep in touch with what surrounds her, but it’s not working, and soon enough you see her losing strength and her legs failing her.

 

You’re quick to catch her; just before she falls on the floor, your grab her by the side and hold her against you, easing her slowly on the floor, back against the wall.

 

“I think… I think I’ve lost too much blood…” she says in a whisper, and you honestly want to punch her in the face.

 

“Of course you have, you idiot.” You rip her pants more than they already are to get a proper view of her injury and, _oh lord_ , that cut is deep and large and you have no idea how she kept herself together until now. Her pant absorbed one liter of blood at least and there’s still more going out, not on a too fast rhythm, thank god.

 

“You could have gotten this stitched up when you arrived. Why did you refuse?”

 

“I am fine, Clarke…”

 

“The hell you are,” you groan as you take the first thing you find – your scarf – to apply pressure on the cut.

 

“That’s where I’m going… according to my ex's grandmother…”

 

“Excuse-me?”

 

“She believes gay people are, like… going to hell.”

 

“Well fuck her.”

 

Lexa makes a face, as to say that this is a horrible thing to think of. “Spiritually, Lexa, not physically.”

 

“Oh thank god…”

 

A nurse walks rapidly past you, and you call after her. When she sees Lexa, she immediately stops everything she is doing, no matter what is was, and crouches next to you. “I think she lost too much blood.” The nurse nods and stands back up. She grabs the first wheeling chair she finds and rolls it next to you. “Help me lift her,” she says, and on her count you stand Lexa up and sit her on the wheeling chair. Aden chooses that exact moment to get out of the x-ray room, and he walks to you with worried eyes. “Mommy?” he says, and you immediately take him in your arms.

 

“It’s okay love, Lexa is a little bit too hurt to walk by herself, but the doctors are going to take good care of her.”

 

“She gonna be okay?”

 

“I am,” Lexa says with a breathy yet steady voice. She looks at Aden with that warm smile of hers. “I am, little one, don’t worry.”

 

“One pack of A positive and a room, right away,” your mom tells the nurse as she takes control of the wheeling chair and the nurse nods. “Yes, chief.”

 

The nurse runs out and your mom starts pushing Lexa in a fast motion in the direction of the E.R. where the nurse made quick work of freeing a bed. Lexa is still conscious, weak but conscious, and you put Aden on the floor so that you can help her out of the chair and on the bed. She lies down there, and you take Aden again, this time to sit him on the bed, face turned to Lexa so that he doesn’t see your mom suturing the brunette.

 

“Do you think you can tell a few stories to Lexa? She needs to stay awake,” you tell him and he firmly nods, ready to help as much as he can.

 

The nurse comes back a few minutes later while Aden is telling a story about a dinosaur on a boat to the brunette and your mom is cleaning her wound. “There’s glass in there,” your mom groans, and you stop Aden from turning his head to see what she is talking about. “Focus on the story love, everything is okay.”

 

“Miss Woods, I’m sorry, I have to take the glass out before the pain killer kicks in; the sooner the better.” Lexa nods, in a haze - you’re pretty sure she didn’t understand what your mom just said. In the meantime, the nurse holds the transfusion and takes Lexa’s arm. She’s fast enough for Aden not to notice the needle she’s putting in her arm before linking it to the blood bag. She puts a plaster on the needle so that it doesn’t leave her arm and then she’s out of the room, trusting your mom to do the rest.

 

Using a tweezer, your mom gets inside the wound and Lexa groans at it, scaring Aden a little, but he takes her hand with his uninjured one and holds it tight, keeping on with the story like you told him to. Two small pieces of glass later, your mom grabs the suture kit and opens it. Now that some blood is running in, it would be stupid to let it go.

 

She waits though, for a few minutes, for the pain killer she injected Lexa with to kick in before she starts closing the wound. When she’s sure it’s all right for her to start, she gets to work and starts closing on the brunette. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you take a look at Lexa - she’s slowly falling asleep, but now with the bag of blood running empty on a slow motion, you’re not worried. You go to Aden and cradle his hair with your hand and drop a kiss on his head.

 

“You did well buddy. Lexa can sleep now.”

 

“Don’t go yet. I need to write a prescription for him. The pharmacy is probably still open, so you’ll get what you need from there,” your mom says without looking away from Lexa’s wound, still closing it up. It takes seven stitches to close it all, and when she’s done she takes a deep breath. “She’ll be fine, and the scar shouldn’t be too ugly. We all did well,” she says as she stretches her muscles, “especially you, you were really helpful,” she says to Aden, and he shots her a bright smile.

 

“Let’s go,” she ads once she has removed her gloves and thrown all the used materials into the nearest bin, “she won’t wake up for a few more hours at least.”

 

 

The decision to stay at the hospital at Lexa’s bedside wasn’t a really hard one to make. It only took a few seconds for Aden to convince you, not that you needed any convincing. Of course, the toddler spent the biggest part of the night asleep against your chest, and you, you used every free moment your mom had to catch up with her. She’s the new chief of surgery, after Thelonious stepped down to focus on research. She doesn’t spend that much time in her office, though, as she’s more an action kind of woman. She is definitely one to cover the E.R every time she can - she loves to be near her patients. She’s thinking of stepping down from the job, too, leave it to Marcus Kane, cardiologic surgeon who proved himself to be a caring mentor toward his interns, caring toward the nurses’s needs as well. He’s worthy of the job, and she feels like letting him take it – she will have to if she wants to spend time with you and Aden. 

 

It’s around seven in the morning when Aden wakes up with a few grumbles and a huge yawn, and you realize you have nothing for breakfast. Your mom enters Lexa’s room just a second after, and she proposes to take him to eat something – she can definitely steal milk and cookies in the cafeteria. You nod and tell Aden that you’ll stay with Lexa and that, if she wakes up while he eats, you’ll ask for the nurse to page her mom’s beeper so he’ll know. In his not-so-fully-awake state, he agrees, and your mom crouches to take him in her arms, smiling warmly at him. You smile too, glad that this is happening, glad to see your mom holding against her chest your two-and-a-half-year-old boy while, the day before, you wouldn’t even have imagined it. You guess fate has its way of bringing people together in the way they expect the least, when they expect it the least.

 

You wave at Aden as your mom carries him out of the room before getting comfortable on your chair.  From what your mom told you about Lexa, she’s not one to rest much. She’s quiet, too, but Abby managed to take a few words from her on her last visit. How she works five nights a week, four hour shifts on her bike, and how she gets back to studying as soon as she gets home. You want to believe you would be as hardworking as her if you had gone to college, but there’s no way in hell you’d work that much. You know yourself - you would be working hard in the very first month, but then you’d reward yourself for so much work by taking a break, and the break would last the entire semester.

 

You would have loved to go to college, though – well, for longer than a month, that is. You don’t regret keeping Aden - god, he’s the best thing that has ever happened to you - but maybe, when he’s old enough, you’ll go back there, to university, so that you can finish your art degree. That would be nice.

 

Your fingers start itching. Thinking of college always makes you think of drawing, and the next thing you know, you want to draw everything. You grab your purse and take a ball pen out of it along with a notebook you always keep in there. It’s little bit torn out, and old, as it’s always in there, but you don’t really mind. There are already a few sketches in there, so you pass a few pages before getting on a new one. You lift your leg from the floor, setting it on the corner of your chair so that you can hold your notebook against it, and ball pen in hand, you start drawing. You don’t really know what you’re drawing, going from one line to another, but soon enough, you realize it is Aden, and you’re not really surprised. While drawing the little blond strands of hair that fall on his forehead, you take a look toward Lexa’s bed; the brunette is fast asleep, snoring lightly. She didn’t move one inch since she fell asleep hours ago, and you have a prefect view on her jawline from where you’re sitting. So sharp it could probably cut, so well-drawn it was probably sculpted by the gods themselves, whoever they might be. Your eyes go from Lexa, to your sketch, to Lexa again, and you do that so much that in the end, you don’t even know what your hand is doing on the paper. You’re not really paying attention to it anymore, but when your hand stops moving, you guess you’re done. It happens sometimes, for you to doodle without really knowing what is happening. It’s like your hand takes control and you have to let it happen or this wicked thing won’t let you live; it would itch and itch until you give in.

 

Putting your ball pen behind your ear, you lift your notebook to take a proper look at your drawing. Aden is in the front, giving a toothy smile, and when you look at his hair, you notice the hand in it. In the background, connected to that hand, is Lexa’s arm, and her face is on the top right of the page, giving that small yet warm smile of hers. You drew a few braids and then a few messy strands of hair around her face, but you didn’t get it quite right. Drawing Lexa is not like drawing Aden, not at all. You’ve been drawing him since he was born, and even if he grows every day, you know exactly where the lines have to be when you draw him. With Lexa, it’s different; her jawline, her lips, her eyes, they're all new lines, sometimes sharp, sometimes soft, but it’s a great exercise. It has been a while since you came around a new model, and you want to get it right. You turn to the next page and take a new look at Lexa, at the way the dim light of the room shines on half her face, brightening her sun-tanned skin.  God, that girl is a goddess. A goddess that grunts.

 

You toss your notebook aside as soon as you realize she’s waking up and sit straighter on your chair. When she opens her eyes, she blinks twice before getting used to the light, and when she finally seems to see clearly, she looks around her. She doesn’t see you at first, but she seems to realize it’s not her room and she groans. “What the…” Shoving the covers off her body, she struggles to get access to her phone, but when she finally gets it out of her pocket, she checks what time it is and groans again. She puts it on her belly with a heavy sigh and then looks around the room again. When her gaze locks on you, she raises a curious brow. It takes a few seconds, but finally her lips turn upward in a small tired smile.

 

“Clarke.”

 

“Lexa,” you greet in exchange. “You didn’t have to stay,” she says then.

 

“Well good morning to you, too,” you smile. “I wouldn’t have slept well if I hadn’t. And Aden wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“Because you certainly slept well in that chair.”

 

“Aden did,” you shrug and she sighs. “Where did he go?”

 

“First ever breakfast with his grandmother in the cafeteria.”

 

Lexa nods at that, and when she’s about to speak again, a nurse enters the room to bring in breakfast for the brunette. She thanks her as soon as she settles everything on the nightstand next to her bed. You ask her to page your mom and she nods before exiting the room.

 

“Want something?” Lexa asks you as soon as the nurse is out. “I’m not really a breakfast kind of person.”

 

“You’ll have to eat at least half of it if you want me to eat something.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“You haven’t eat shit since yesterday lunch at least and you almost collapsed yesterday. Eat.”

 

Lexa gives you an unimpressed look and you’re as unimpressed as she is.

 

“It’s either me suggesting you to eat or my mom forcing you to do it. The choice is yours. But she won’t clear you unless you eat.”

 

Lexa sighs again, but she grabs the cup of milk that has been seated on the nightstand and a piece of bread. You give her a proud smile and she just rolls her eyes. That’s when your mom enters the room, holding Aden against her chest as he eats a croissant.

 

“Lek-faa!” he exclaims, mouth full, and you give him a look. “Aden, your mouth before you speak.”

 

He’s fast to swallow the remaining part of his food as your mom sits him on Lexa’s bed, and when there’s nothing left in his mouth, he starts again. “Lexa!”

 

“Hey, little one.”

 

You smile as they exchange a few sentences while your mom goes to the side of Lexa’s bed, checking on her leg. “How are your ribs?” she asks in the meantime, and Lexa shrugs. “Less uncomfortable than yesterday.”

 

“Okay. Aden, can you go with Mommy for a second please?”

 

You stand and open your arms out to him, and he stands on the bed to get against your chest. “Your grandmother needs to take a look at Lexa’s ribs,” you explain to him, and he gives you a look. “What are ribs?” Holding him with one arm around his back, you lift your other hand on his side. “Do you feel all those bones?” you ask as you slide your index finger above his shirt. He nods. “That’s what we call ribs; you have them on both sides of your body.” Out of curiosity, Aden touches his side with his own hands and feels the bones. “That weird”, he says. “Why here?”

 

“Well that’s a good question, love, I don’t know.”

 

“Why?” he asks again and you shake your head before propping a kiss on his cheek. He smiles and drop his head on your shoulder.

 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Abby finally says after checking Lexa’s side, and the brunette exhales a sigh of relief. “But you will take a week off from work. And I’m not clearing you until someone comes to pick you up.”

 

Lexa is about to say otherwise when your mom speaks up again. “This is about your health, Miss Woods. You can say whatever you want, I won’t change my mind. I’m going to get a few papers filled and I’ll be right back,” she informs the three of you before she leaves the room.

 

“You said she’d clear me if I eat something.”

 

“Yeah, well, food and friends, I guess.”

 

Lexa takes her phone from her belly and unlocks it in a few seconds. She opens her contact list and takes a sheepish look at it. “Guess I’ll go with Lincoln…” she says after a few seconds, and she clicks on the contact and puts her phone against her ear.

 

You give her some kind of privacy as you sit back on the chair and turn your attention to Aden, not listening to what Lexa might be saying.

 

“We’ll be going home soon, love, okay?” He nods and ask you how much time he will have to keep the splint around his wrist. You proceed on explaining to him the complete process of healing and how it takes some time, but that his wrist will be stronger than ever when it’s done.

 

“Lincoln,” you catch Lexa saying with a sigh, “I can’t call Anya, she’s going to die from a heart attack, rise from the dead and then kill me. And don’t even think of telling me to call Titus. The poor guy is already bald, I don’t want him to lose his eyebrows.”

 

There’s a silence from her and you can’t hear what the guy named Lincoln says on the other end of the line, but then Lexa speaks again, even more annoyed than before. "Fine, send me your girlfriend, but if she kills me on our way back, it’s on you.”

 

“… Yeah, a week,” she says after a new silence, “guess I’ll have some time to study.”

 

“… I don’t know, the doctor went to fill some papers.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll update you as soon as she gets here.”

 

She hangs up her phone with a heavy sigh and you can’t help but ask if everything is okay.

 

“Wonderful,” she shrugs, “my best friend can’t come so he’s sending me his girlfriend who received her driving license from a lucky dip. She can’t drive.”

 

“She sounds like fun.”

 

“If I die, Aden gets all my stuff.”

 

“Well that’s certainly nice, but he’s a bit too young to get on your bike yet.”

 

“And probably too young to read Korean poetry and philosophy books.”

 

“Definitely,” you say as you cradle his head, and you notice his eyes are closed and his breath even. “I think he fell back asleep,” you murmur, and Lexa makes some space on her bed before nodding toward said space.

 

“You’re sure? I can keep him.” 

 

“He’ll be more comfortable.”

 

“Fair enough,” you say as you stand up and slowly ease him on the edge of the bed.

 

 

 

Talking with Lexa is easy, you realize. Well, you’ve seen it yesterday, of course, but yesterday was mostly about her work. Now, though, she speaks about college, and about her best friend and his infamous girlfriend who’s picking her up. She doesn’t remember when the two started dating, but she met the girl around two weeks ago and she almost died three times that day. This reminds you that you have yet to meet one of Aden’s godmothers' boyfriend; they started dating four months ago and she has been keeping him secret like he’s an old artifact – for being able to support her, he probably is, now that you think about it.

 

Aden wakes up about fifteen minutes after he fell asleep, when the nurse comes in to retrieve Lexa’s meal tray. He grumbles a bit, and you take him in your arms right before your mom enters the room with a few papers in hand. She’s about to open her mouth to explain a few things to Lexa, but then someone literally runs into the room, crashing into your mom at the same time, and Lexa has to sit straight to put a hand behind you so that you don’t fall from your mom colliding into you.

 

“Shit, sorry!” exclaims a cherry voice, and god, you’d recognize that voice between thousands.

 

“Octavia...” you and Lexa sigh deeply and you both look at each other with a quizzical look.

 

“Clarke?” the brunette asks.

 

“Lexa?” you counter back.

 

“Octavia?” your mom asks to the new one in the room.

 

“Auntie O!” Aden yells when he finally recognizes her, and he almost jumps from your arms to get into hers.

 

“What the-“

 

“Language!” you exclaim in unison with your mom and Lexa, and Octavia looks at you three in utter shock.

 

“-hap?!” she asks as she holds Aden against her, surprised.

 

 

 

 

Your life never really makes sense, so you’re not really surprised when Octavia tells you that this is fucked up. It is, but you’re not even shocked about it. At least you got your mom back and made a new friend out of it; you’re certainly not going to complain about it. And Lexa is like Aden’s new hero or something, so this is nice to watch. You’re at the entrance of her room looking at Lexa’s bed, Aden excitedly speaking to her as Lexa is folding some piece of paper. You have a feeling that the piece of paper she’s folding might be the prescription your mom gave her ten minutes ago, and that’s why you ask her for a new one when she comes to drop a kiss on your forehead before you leave. She sighs but writes a new one anyway, which you then hand to Octavia.

 

“I’ll give it to Anya. If someone can make her do something, it’s definitely her.”

 

Lexa mentioned someone named that way earlier when she was on the phone with Lincoln, and you can’t stop yourself from asking, “Girlfriend?”

 

Octavia gives you a look. _The_ look, the one that says that she knows something you don’t.

 

“No. They’re like sisters. She’s single, in case it might interest you.”

 

“I just met her,” you say, but you’re not even sure you mean it. Maybe it kind of does.

 

“When I had just met Lincoln, I was already interested,” she says knowingly. “Oh, shut up.”

 

A cry of surprise followed by something close to amazement leaves Aden’s mouth, and you take a look inside the room to the bed where he’s sitting. The paper Lexa was folding not so long ago turned into a little space ship, and you’re honestly impressed.

 

“Mommy, look!” 

 

You step into the room to take a closer look at the paper. “Lexa made it!” he says happily. “That so cool!” You nod, agreeing at how cool that is, and wonder how she made it. Sure, you know about origamis, but those have always been one of the biggest wonders of the world for you. You can’t even make a plane out of a paper, so a space ship? You’re shocked that’s even possible.

 

“I made one for you, too,” she says as she hands you a folded tissue. It’s not a space rocket that you get, but a lotus flower, neatly folded and honestly really pretty. “As a thank you for staying the night.”

 

“I should be the one thanking you,” you say, but you take it anyway. She gives you a puzzled look as why you should thank her, and you nod toward Aden as a reply. Your little boy is holding his rocket ship by the bottom and flying it all around him while making motor sounds with his mouth, and Lexa gives a small warm smile.

 

“My pleasure, Clarke.”

 

You shiver a bit at the way she pronounces your name, articulating each syllable and making the ‘a’ almost sounds like an ‘o’.

 

“Let’s go,” she tells Octavia as she sits on the side of the bed and slowly stands up. If she feels any pain in her leg, she doesn’t show it. She pats Aden’s head as a goodbye and he gives her a toothy green. He thanks her for the rocket ship and waves her goodbye, and while telling him he’s welcome, she turns to you and gives you a smile. “Goodbye Clarke. For now.”

 

You don’t really get the reason of that last part, but you nod and wish her a safe trip with Octavia on the wheel. “First off, eff you all, I made a lot of progress, second, tonight is movie night,” she reminds you. “I’ll be there around seven. I’ll bring pizza.”

 

“Pizza!” Aden cheers and Octavia smiles at him. “See you tonight, buddy.”

 

She high-fives him, and then both her and Lexa are out of the room.

 

 

Aden keeps playing on the bed Lexa was previously on, and it gives you some time to think. To think about the night you just spent and the way shivers ran through your spine when Lexa said your name. And all that remains of that night is the lotus flower in your hand and Aden'a rocket ship. Nothing else. And, of course, your silly ass didn’t think of giving her your number, of fucking course.

 

You shake your head at yourself with a heavy sigh and turn your attention to Aden. “Time to go, love.”

 

 

 

 

Four days since everything had happened and you still haven’t managed to get her out of your head. Whenever you find yourself alone, or bored at work – that happens a lot – her face comes back to your brain and you feel the urge to draw her from every angle. Like now.

 

It’s past ten in the evening and Aden is sleeping soundly in his room, tired of the day he had at the childcare. You’re sitting on the couch in the living room; the TV is running in front of you but you don’t even pay attention to it. All you can focus on is the sketch drawing itself on your knees. You’re still not getting it right - her jawline is still not perfect and it’s almost driving you crazy. You’ll do it over and over again until you get it right because, _hell,_ if you managed to draw Octavia’s jawline, you can draw Lexa’s.

 

You’re turning to a new page when your phone buzzes next to you, and you take it without looking at the name on the screen. At this hour, there are only three people that could be calling you – namely, your mom, Octavia, and Raven - and those are voices you can recognize easily.

 

“Hello?”

 

_“How much of a dumbass can you be?”_

 

Octavia. What the hell, though?

 

“Dude, why are you insulting me again?”

 

 _“Clarke,"_ she says, and she has that voice, the one she uses when she wants to teach you the way of life. _“First of, why didn’t you give your number to Lexa?”_

 

“I forgot. It’s not like I might never see her again, though - she’s your boyfriend’s best friend.”

 

_“So you actually want to see her again, right?”_

 

“Well… I’m not against the idea?” It’s more of a shy question than a statement, but Octavia knows you well enough to know what that means.

 

_“Why didn’t you text her?”_

“Uh, well, for you information, she didn’t give me her number either, so unless I’m medium and you never told me about it, I can’t.”

 

_“Oh my, fuck, Clarke, what am I going to do with you?”_

 

“Excuse me, but –“

 

 _“Clarke,”_ she stops you, and you want to tell her that it’s rude, but she’s too quick for you to follow. _“Where’s the flower she gave you?”_

 

“On my nightstand?”

 

_“Go get it, right away.”_

 

You stand up without giving it any more thought and go to your bedroom quietly, making sure to make as little sound as possible. Aden can be quite sensitive sometimes when it takes him more time to reach the deep state of sleep, and you don’t want to take any risk in waking him up. You get the flower from your room and get back to the living room equally silently.

 

“What now?”

 

 _“Unfold it._ ”

 

“What? No I-“

 

 _“Clarke, unfold that fucking flower or,_ Satan hear my words _, I’ll be at your door in ten to do it myself.”_

 

“Fine, fine!” you urge her, and push the bottom of the flower. From there it’s easy; you just have to take the four corners in the middle and open them - piece of cake - but you still go slowly and carefully, afraid of tearing the tissue down. There, in the middle of the tissue, in neat handwriting, blue ink, a number. A fucking phone number – _Lexa’s fucking phone number_!

 

“Shit.”

 

_“Text her. Right about now.”_

 

“Forty-eight hours rule?” you ask, and Octavia sighs loudly.

 

_“It expired two fucking days ago. Text the shit out of her or I’m calling Raven.”_

 

“I’m hanging up now.”

 

You don’t pay attention to the ‘fucking finally’ she mutters right before you hang up the phone, and you immediately go to your texting app and type Lexa’s number in. You give it about five seconds though before typing away a message and pressing the send button.

 

 **[ 10 : 27 ]             To** : New number

 **Subject:** You couldn’t give your number like any normal person, could you?

 

 **[ 10 : 30 ]             From:** Lexa

                              **Subject:** Well, where’s the fun in that?

 

Your lips turn upward without you realizing as you type away your reply to her. This might be interesting.

 


	2. Raccoon and kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They probably text too much, but hey, who cares? Lexa doesn't. 
> 
> Or,
> 
> Lexa meets the rest of the family and Aden gets a raccoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys asked for it so I did it. Here comes the update for the single parent AU. An update that will have another update, because I had to cut my chapter, either way, it would have been freaking long - the other part isn't over yet, I finished this yesterday and am posting it now because I still have 30 minutes of break (work kicked my ass so please let me know if there's any typos?).
> 
> Edit : I just corrected most of the typos, I think? Let me know if you see some !  
> Edit #2 : koalabear77 beta'd my text ! Go say hi to her guys !

 

 

You don’t even have half a clue how it happened, but somehow it did. Clarke became a constant in your life. And that’s… concerning, to say the least. You’re far from being a people person. You’ve only ever had two friends and other humans would be lucky if you were to admit they were acquaintance – or remember them, for that matter.

 

Anya and Lincoln are your only friends. Or were, apparently, because Clarke is one now and this is not a development you expected. Sure, you gave her your number, but it took her four full days to actually text you, so you did kind of lose hope about her wanting to talk to you. When you finally got a text from her, though, you learnt that she didn’t see the ink on the flower; Octavia had to call her and force her to unfold the origami. And now you don’t know if you’re grateful or not.

 

Clarke is smart and funny and loves to share about Aden’s last doing. And you like talking to her, like, genuinely like her sharing stories about her day and how Aden made progress at drawing eyes – eyes, still a big word, but he made an almost circle last time he had to draw one and Clarke wouldn’t shut up about it and you actually enjoyed it. And you sure as hell don’t like kids enough to enjoy reading texts about Aden’s first ever good looking circle for one hour without getting tired. But you didn’t and that’s worrying.

 

That’s even more worrying now that you’re smiling like an idiot while looking at your phone. Your shift just ended and you’re ready to bike your way back home under the pouring rain – it hasn’t stop raining since you started and you’re so drenched you will probably have to wring your pants outwhen you get home. At the beginning of your shift, right between your arrival on your working zone and your first delivery, you snapped a picture of your wet hair and face and sent it to Clarke, but it’s just now that you have time to check for her reply. She replied with a picture of Aden, hidden behind the large hood of his parka as he jumped into a puddle of water. “This one loves rain,” the caption says and you shake your head with a sigh, wiping out the smile tugging at your lips.

 

It’s been two months since the hospital, and during that time you’ve seen them a few times – let’s be honest, you spent your last three Sundays with them at the park near Clarke’s place. She takes him out every time she can so that he can play outside and waste some of his unlimited energy. Of the three to four hours that are spent outside, you usually spend half of it playing with Aden and the other half with his mom. You enjoy them both way too much for you own good. You know you do, but you can’t even bring yourself to care.

 

As you get on your bike, you dig into your front pocket, and after a few seconds find your Bluetooth ear-flap. You’re fast to turn it on and put it into your ear. Your phone recognizes it immediately and you hear a robotic voice telling you it’s connected. You then type a number out of memory and hit the call button before putting your phone back in its travel case and straping it around your forearm.

 

It rings twice before someone finally replies and the first thing that comes out of your best friend’s mouth is, “ _Tell me you’re not dying again_.”

 

“Hello to you too, Anya.”

 

_“You don’t seem to be dying. Good. Sup?”_

 

“Just out of work, want me come over?”

 

_“Sure. Shouldn’t you be asking this to your crush, though?”_

 

“Anya,” you sigh, and you already regret calling her, “I’m not calling Clarke this late. Aden is already in bed.”

 

 _“Ain’t I glad to know you finally admit that you have a crush on Clarke.”_  

 

You open your mouth to deny what she just said, but then you realize you’re the one who brought up Clarke after she mentioned your crush. You did this to yourself.

 

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, and you hear Anya laugh on the other end of the line.

 

“Want me to come or what?” you groan at her.

 

_“I would very much love you to come, but we’re not thinking about the same kind of coming.”_

 

“You know what, Judas, fuck you, I’m going home and ignoring you for the year coming.”

 

_“Don’t be a baby and I might have a cup of hot chocolate ready for you when you arrive.”_

 

“Some pants would be great, too. I’m drenched – don’t even think of making a joke out of it.”

 

_“You’re no fun. Hurry up.”_

 

And with that Anya hangs up, which is a good thing, because not a second later your phone buzzes on you forearm, an incoming call from Lincoln. You answer with a press on your ear-flap.

 

_“Hey Lex, you’re off the clock?”_

 

“Yes, I’m on my way to Anya’s. Can I do something for you?”

 

_“Yeah, Octavia’s having a get together and my duty is to bring you there whether you like it or not. You can bring Anya if you want.”_

 

“Lincoln, I’m working.”

 

_“No you’re not; we’re doing it on Saturday.”_

 

“Lincoln, I –“

 

_“Clarke and Aden will be there, and if you come at 6 pm, you will have enough time to hang with him and then with her when he’ll go to sleep. He has a room at Octavia’s.”_

 

You open your mouth but close it again, not really knowing what to reply. You don’t work on Saturday, true, but you usually study on that day. But the prospect of being able to spend time with Aden and Clarke is, well, appealing – even if you’ll probably see them on Sunday as well, because you promised Aden to join him at the park during the afternoon. Maybe if you wake up earlier than usual, you can write your paper during the morning instead of the night… You could also work late on Friday…

 

“Fine, Lincoln, you win. I’ll bring Anya, she wants to meet Clarke anyway. Text me the address?”

 

 _“Octavia, Lexa’s in!”_ Lincoln shouts through the phone and you hear a loud ‘hell yeah’ coming from the brunette. _“Raven’s gonna go batshit,”_ Lincoln ads and you remember her being Aden’s other godmother.

 

“Yeah well, see you then.”

 

The line goes silent and you let out a heavy sigh. You wonder if you didn’t give in too easily, if you didn’t appear too eager at the idea of spending time with Clarke and Aden. Truth being, you’re eager, and Lincoln always _knows_. He and Anya have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to you. They know _everything_.

 

You’re so fucked.

 

Anya’s going to be so much of a pain in your lower back when you ask her to come that you almost think of not inviting her. Almost, because if you don’t, she’s going to murder you with a tea spoon and that could be painful.

 

 

 

When you finally reach Anya’s apartment, on the fourth floor of a building without elevator, in the shady side of town so you had to bring your bike with you up the stairs, you sigh with relief. God, this place is awful; you honestly wonder why you still come here so often. You open the door without even knocking and go in, putting your bike in the entrance against the wall that faces the kitchen. You close the door behind you and call after your friend, asking for a towel because you’re still dripping wet and you don’t really want your hair to stream onto Anya’s floor. The bathroom door at the end of the corridor opens suddenly and a towel flies in your general direction. You catch it quite easily and discharge your phone and K-way on your bike before rubbing the towel against your hair, hoping it will be enough for it to absorb all the water your braids collected during your shift.

 

“Still need some pants?” Anya asks as she exits the bathroom, and you nod at her. She goes into her bedroom and retrieves some yoga pants that she throws at you before going to the kitchen. You go in the living room to change, not really minding being in underwear in front of Anya; you almost grew up in the same bed as her, so you saw more of each other than underwear and you’ve lost any kind of self-consciousness toward her years ago.

 

You’re changed when she walks in the living room, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She puts it on the table before she sits, and you put your pants on the back of one of the chairs for it to dry a bit before you leave. You get your phone out of its travel case before joining Anya, sitting in front of the cup she left on the table.

 

“Thanks, I need that.”

 

“I can see that. You look like a fucking raccoon.”

 

“You stole my water resistant eye liner.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

You rub the towel under your eyes as your phone buzzes on the table, and while holding the piece of fabric with one hand, you unlock your phone and take a look at the text Clarke just sent you.

 

 **[ 22 : 33 ] From:** Clarke

 **Subject:** what kind of animal would you compare yourself to?

 

Anya gives you a pointed look and you reply to her quiet question, “It’s Clarke, she just asked me what my spiritual animal is, I think.”

 

“You’re a raccoon.”

 

“Only when it rains.”

 

“No. Always. Raccoons scare people because they’re big and shit, but they’re just scaredy-cats that only want to be fed and loved.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” you reply with a shake of your head, because you don’t ‘just’ want to be fed and loved. You want a lot of things in your life; you want to end your degree, you want to pay off your student loans, you want to have a good situation, you want the people surrounding you to be happy and proud of you. Sure, you’re not against some love but, hey, who is? Food is just a bonus in the matter.

 

 **[ 22 : 35 ] To:** Clarke

 **Subject:** Why?

 

“So, did you come here just to end my milk, or are you gonna talk at some point?”

 

“We’re invited to Octavia’s get together on Saturday.”

 

“Who’s Octavia again?” Anya asks then with a raised brow, and you just shake your head with a sigh.

 

“Your brother’s girlfriend, Anya.”

 

Anya seems to pounder the thought for a few seconds before her face lights up with realization, “Ha! The hamster on caffeine?”

 

You sigh again but nod anyway. If your memory when it comes to people is awful, Anya has none. Well, it’s not really that she has none, but people really need to make an impression on her for her to remember them. If it’s not something she has never seen before, there’s no chance for her to get their name framed into her brain.

 

“And Lincoln’s not my brother. I don’t even like him,” she reminds you, and you give her a pointed look. Anya being Anya, of course. The day she’ll assume she actually likes someone will be the day hell breaks loose and the end of the world happens. And while it’s true that Lincoln is not her blood brother, you know he’s family enough for him to have a spare key to her place. You do too, but Anya never closes her door so you’re not sure that’s really useful.

 

“Anyway,” you reply, “you’re invited. I’ll probably go there earlier than you’d like, though.”

 

You try to keep your face straight. You have to, because if she sees any kind of feelings going through your skin, she will know and she will be a bitch. You take a sip of your drink, not looking at her, but you can feel her brown eyes on you, scanning you for a quiet minute before she shakes her head.

 

“You’re so fucking whipped it’s disgusting.”

 

Just to give her reason, your phone buzzes on the table again and you immediately look down, seeing the new message notification from Clarke. You stop a smile from making its way to your lips as you unlock your phone, but Anya sees right through you with a new shake of the head and a small smirk dancing on her lips, “It has been a while. I’ll deny if you ever mention it, but I think it’s cute.”

 

“Fuck you. I’m not cute. I am the night.”

 

“Sure, try to convince yourself that.”

 

You glare at her for a second before looking down at your unlocked phone.

 

 **[ 22 : 40 ] From:** Clarke

 **Subject:** long story short, aden has stuffed animals that represent people (like, I’m a lion

                             and murphy is sponge bob and so on) and he almost cried at bed time because

                             he has no you

 

 **[ 22 : 41 ] To:** Clarke

 **Subject:** I’d like to believe I’m something majestic and kind of scary but, alas, according

                              to Anya, I’m just a freaking raccoon.

 

 **[ 22 : 42 ] From:** Clarke

 **Subjet:** raccoon! OMG that’s perfect. thank her for me, now I just need to find one!

 

You look at your phone in complete disbelief and type a fast reply, asking her if she seriously believes you to be a raccoon, before glancing toward Anya, “She’s buying Aden a raccoon plush because of you.”

 

“Blame yourself,” your friend shrugs. “Who will be at the get-together anyway?”

 

“I don’t really know. Octavia and Lincoln, for starters, but I think Aden’s second godmother, Raven, will be there, along with Clarke and Aden. As for the others, I have no freaking clue.”

 

Anya just shrugs, “Sure, why not, it’s not like I have something better to do anyway.”

 

You nod and type a new text to Clarke, announcing that both you and Anya are in for Saturday, and add a little note asking her when she would like you to arrive. The reply is so fast to come you don’t even have time to put your phone down, it buzzes directly in your hands.

 

 **[ 22 : 53 ] From:** Clarke

 **Subject:** first, look at your face on the last picture you sent me, you’re definitely

                              a raccoon, and second, I remember the stories you told me about anya: if

                              she scares my son, raven will blow up her place. come around 6?

 

When you tell that to Anya, she lets a new smirk appears on her face. “Sounds like fun.”

 

And that’s the story of how you ended behind Octavia’s front door around six on your Saturday. Anya texted you earlier; she’s on her way, she just needed to change from the gym. You’re surprised she’s coming that early, but she mentioned wanting to meet both Clarke and Aden, as you wouldn’t shut up about them. Now for praying that she won’t embarrass you.

 

You knock on the door and someone screams from inside that it’s open, so you put a hand on the doorknob and turn it, opening the door and pushing your bike in along with you.

 

“Octavia, do you –“ you stop midsentence as you hear a high pitched scream that is soon enough followed by something suddenly clinging on your leg. You don’t even have to look down to know who that is, and while holding your bike with one hand, you put the other on Aden’s head, cradling his hair, “Hey, little one.”

 

“Lexaaaa!” he shouts excitedly, and you wish you weren’t trapped between your bike and him so that you could take him in your arms.

 

“Aden, what about we let Lexa come inside first?”

 

“But mommy! It’s Lexa!”

 

“Yes love, but you can see that she’s struggling with her bike right now, can’t you?”

 

He makes a face suddenly, frowning and trying to understand what she just said, and after a few seconds, he reluctantly lets go of your leg with a small sad ‘okay.’ He walks to Clarke and puts his back against her legs, looking at you, probably waiting for you to be settled. Lincoln comes from the corridor that you suppose leads to the living room and smiles warmly at you before announcing that he’ll take care of the bike. He does so, opening a door to the right of the front door. “Mind if I put the bike in your room, buddy?” he looks at Aden and the boy shakes a no as he watches your tall friend pushing your bike against one of the walls of the room. He closes the door behind him as he exits it and you shake your jacket away from your body. Lincoln is the one to take it again and he brings it to the living room, nodding for you to follow him. But before you can even start walking, Aden looks up at his mom and asks something you can’t quite make out. Clarke nods her approval and Aden suddenly runs to you, as fast as he can with his tiny legs. You crouch in front of him and rise up again as soon as your hands are under his arms, holding him up against your chest and walking your way to the living room.

 

A few people are already here and you nod at them while Aden hugs you firmly. The only ones you recognize so far are Lincoln, Octavia, and Clarke; you have no freaking clue who the others are, but one of them – a tall guy with milk skin, freckles, and floppy hair – is looking at you with some kind of an 'aw' face.

 

“Dude, you need to explain to me how you did that,” he says with a deep voice, and you raise a brow at him.

 

“I don’t even know who you are.”

 

He smiles then, a bright smile and nods, “Fair enough. I’m Bellamy, Octavia’s brother. And for some reason, Aden doesn’t like me.”

 

“That might be because of the hair,” you say without even realizing, and some of the people in the living room laugh. “Told you you should cut them,” some guy sitting on the couch says.

 

“Quiet, Murphy, we didn’t ask for your point of view,” Bellamy groans.

 

So that one is Murphy, Sponge Bob if you remember well. He’s smaller than Bellamy by inches and his hair is cut to the sides and pulled backward on top of his head.

 

“All right everyone,” Clarke announces before Murphy can bicker back, “this is Lexa,” she waves in your general direction, “and Lexa, you already know Bellamy and Murphy. The ones you don’t know yet are Monty,” she gestures to the Asian boy sitting next to Murphy on the couch, “and Raven, but she’s in the kitchen with Octavia.”

 

“Someone called for my majesty?” a voice says behind you and you turn to see the girl in question. She’s smaller than you but not by much, with black hair tied in a ponytail and caramel skin.

 

“You must be Lexa,” she says as she looks you from head to toe, and Aden replies before you can, a loud “YES!” that echoes in your ear for a few seconds. “She can make rockets!” he says then, and Raven raises a brow at that.

 

“Buddy, I’m the one building rockets here, no one else.”

 

“But she made me one!” he says with a pout. “I forgot it home!” he realizes then, and you see his face fall a bit.

 

“Hey there, I’ll make you a new one for tonight, okay? No sad faces.”

 

His face lights up again and his arms snuggle around your neck to hold it tightly again.

 

“I swear I’m dreaming,” Bellamy says, looking at you in disbelief., “He's known me since the beginning of his life, and most of the time, he refuses to even say hello to me, and here she is, knowing him for two months, being his new hero or something.”

 

“Don’t be such a grump,” Clarke says, “and honestly Bell,” Raven adds matter-of-factly, “I would rather hug Lexa than you, too.”

 

“I’ll take a rain check on that offer; all my hugs are reserved for Aden.”

 

“Oh I see, you only like me for my son,” Clarke says then, feigning being hurt by holding a hand to her heart, and you glare at her for a second before freeing one of your hands from behind Aden’s back. You hold it up and nod to Clarke to come. The blonde does so, nudging herself on your side and kissing your cheek as a greeting. You try to ignore the way your heartbeat increases in your chest and hope that Aden is not capable of feeling it. Clarke stays on your side even after saying hello to you, your arm thrown around her waist. Your hand isn’t clearly on her side, as you don’t really know if you’re allowed to do that or not, but the blonde takes your hand in her own after a few seconds and flattens it on her hip, keeping her warm fingers on yours.

 

You don’t see Raven snapping a picture, or if you do, you ignore it, and Octavia comes out of the kitchen with a plate of appetizers while Aden crawls his way out of your arms to get into his mom’s. Clarke welcomes him, letting go of your hand, and you immediately feel the loss of warmth coming from her.

 

“You guys are disgustingly cute, but get out of my way,” the owner of the place announces as she walks her way to the small table in the middle of the living room, just in front of the couch.

 

There’s a knock on the door then, and you recognize the way it sounds. Lincoln does too, as he furrows his brows while looking over the entrance, “She’s here early,” he looks to you and you nod, not mentioning the reason why she wanted to come early.

 

“Come in!” Lincoln shouts from the living room, and the door flies open under Anya’s strength before closing with a loud thud.

 

“I swear finding a place to park here is hell,” says Anya as she walks in the corridor and reaches the living room like she owns the place. She shrugs her jacket off and throws it to Lincoln, who takes it with ease and puts it on the chair next to him, along with yours.

 

“Guys, this is Anya, second and last sister of mine.”

 

You look over at her, her dirty blond hair cascading freely on her shoulders, kind of messy and still wet from the shower she took after the gym.

 

“Dude, are all your sisters semi-goddesses or what? What did your parents feed you with?”

 

You see Anya raising a perfect brow at Raven, who just spoke to Lincoln, and she literally undresses her with her eyes for a few seconds, before snapping back to reality when you knock your shoulders against hers, “At least be subtle,” you tell her and she glares at you.

 

“Anya’s go-to food is Oreos, so I’m not sure it’s because of that.”

 

“It’s not her ‘go-to food,’“ you say then, “it’s her precious and she doesn’t share with anyone.”

 

“Dude, those things are expensive, of course I’m not sharing,” she says as she rolls up her shirt’s sleeves expertly without even looking at what she’s doing.

 

Slowly but surely, as she rolls the left one, ink starts to appear instead of skin, and you see Aden’s head perk up from his mom’s shoulder to look at her. Ever so quietly, he pokes his mom on the cheek to get her attention – she was in a heated conversation with Murphy about the greatness of Oreos versus the perfection of Pop Tarts – and the blonde turns her head to him as he tells her to look. Clarke turns herself and Aden shifts in her arms so that he can still see Anya’s forearm. She has an entire galaxy imprinted in her skin, colorful and bright, with shades of red, blue, and purple and hundreds of little white points representing stars. You remember the face of the poor tattoo guy when she told him what she wanted; if you guys hadn’t been Titus’s ‘children,’ he probably would have kicked you out. It took hours to be done; you remember each one of them as painful for her and so freaking slow for you. Why you even came with her in the first place is a mystery.

 

Anya’s eyes land on Aden and she smirks a bit at him before walking over to one of the walls of the living room, one free of furniture, and sitting against it – classic Anya; if there’s people she doesn’t know on the couch, she’ll simply stick to the floor (you would too, if you’re being honest, but it’s not about you right now).

 

“Do you wanna look from up closer?” she asks the kid as she holds her arm for him to see, and he looks at his mom. “It’s okay, love, you can go look.”

 

Clarke drops Aden on the floor and he walks shyly toward Anya, fidgeting with the base of his sweater. Patiently, Anya starts explaining what a tattoo is and what this one represents, and you stop listening to her when Clarke pokes you in the shoulder.

 

“She’s not going to do anything stupid, right?” she asks and you shake a no instantly.

 

“She’s kind of my sister, so telling me scary stories at midnight was part of the sibling game, but I don’t think she’ll do it with him. She’s good with kids.”

 

“Learnt it all from her?”

 

“Kind of. I had to catch up; all the kids have to help Titus to raise the smaller ones by the age of ten.”

 

“I… have no clue what that’s supposed to mean.”

 

It kind of hit you then that you never told Clarke anything about your childhood. Well, you did tell her about Anya and Lincoln, of course, but she has no idea how you three came together in the first place, or where it happened. Right, well…

 

“Anya, Lincoln and I grew up in the same orphanage. Well, they both joined the orphanage when they were around five or something, but I’m what we call a Night Blood: I got left one night on the porch of the orphanage when I was still a baby,” you explain, and Clarke looks at you with some shock in her eyes. She quickly recovers and you expect the pity to show up. It’s always the pity that shows up first, and it’s not something you like to see toward your person – it’s not something you want to see coming from _Clarke_. But her eyes soften then and she gives you a small smile. “I must say, I’m impressed. You three grew up well.”

 

That takes you aback to say the least, and you stutter a 'thank you,' at which she just shrugs. She looks over at Aden then, and you can’t quite pinpoint the feelings dripping from her eyes, but you pick out worry in those icy blue eyes.

 

“Clarke,” you start without even noticing, looking at the blond boy too, watching him interact happily with Anya, “you’re doing well with him, you know?”

 

You don’t look at the blonde, but you feel her eyes on you as you keep going. “I’ve seen a lot of kids pass through the orphanage and I can tell you,” your eyes catch hers for the end of your sentence, making sure she gets your every word, “this one is definitely a happy one.”

 

For a minute, you forget. You forget all the people surrounding you; Anya in the corner with Aden, Octavia against Lincoln in the far corner of the room, Bellamy sprawled out on a groaning Murphy on the couch, Raven somewhere in the middle, and Monty on the far side of said couch. You forget everyone and you just see Clarke. Clarke and her blue eyes, Clarke and the way her lower lip trembles as she opens her mouth to reply to you. No sound comes, as a single tear escapes her eye before she lunges toward you. The next thing you know, Clarke’s arms are around your shoulders and she is flush against your body, face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel a few more tears fall from her eyes to your skin. You don’t immediately hug back, taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but after a few seconds, you put a hand on the small of her back while the other goes on top of her head. “You’re doing fine, Clarke,” you murmur directly in her ear, “you’re doing perfectly fine.”

 

She shudders against your neck, sucks in a deep breath, and holds you a little tighter. “You’re okay,” you say as you hold tight back, providing her with as much support as you can, “ _he_ is okay.”

 

“Guys,” Raven groans suddenly behind you, and without really moving, keeping Clarke’s head hidden in your neck, you turn to the Latina, “can you go be cute somewhere else, I’d like to pass here.”

 

“Can’t you walk around us like any normal person?”

 

“I don’t go around people, they move out of my way because they think I’m a fragile little thing,” the brunette replies with a tap on her left thigh. You look at her leg then, because it seems to be what she wants, and you see the heavy brace surrounding it, closed around her pants. You look back at her face and raise a brow. “Are you a fragile little thing?” you ask.

 

“Do I look like one?”

 

“Then _walk around us_.”

 

Raven smiles then, for a reason you ignore, and you probably look puzzled because she just shakes her head and goes around you and Clarke. Clarke’s head is still against your neck, but her breath is steadier than what it was before, arm loose around your neck.

 

“Congrats,” she tells you, voice a trembling whisper, “you just passed the Raven test.”

 

Clarke holds her head back up and you’re quick to wipe the trails her tears left on her cheeks with your sleeve. She smiles at you and glances towards Aden for a split second – you believe, from what you hear, that he’s having a passionate argument with Murphy and Anya about Sponge Bob – before she leans in and drops a fast kiss on the corner of your mouth. You’re so surprised you don’t even react, and before you can do anything, she goes around you and joins Aden, Murphy, and Anya on the floor. Your eyes follow her on their own device and you watch her sitting on the parquet, Aden fast to come sit on her lap.

 

It almost burns, where she kissed you, and you have no idea what to do now. Anya glances at you shortly, raising a brow as to ask if you’re okay – because of course she knows something’s up – and you smile at her, an honest to god smile, the kind of thing that doesn’t show up on your face in public, but you can’t help yourself. Her eyes open wide for a second but she just shakes her head in the end, mouthing a ‘whipped’ to you. You mouth a ‘fuck you,’ and your friend goes back to her conversation with the three others. And so the day goes on.

 

 

Aden eats first, along with his mom, a plate of pasta in the kitchen while you’re chatting with the others in the living room. Raven is a rocket scientist, you learn, or will be one soon enough, as she already designed a few things and is just waiting for her traineeship at NASA to begin to build them. Monty is studying to become a chemist, Bellamy is on his way to become a history teacher, and Murphy is struggling in college, studying while the only thing he wants to do is write books for kids. You reassure him, explaining to him that you picked law out of all the things you could have chosen to study, but that you recently came to the realization that it’s not what you want to do. You’re thinking of moving from law to teaching sometime soon.

 

Conversations flow easily, especially with Raven and Monty, who are both the biggest nerds you’ve ever met, but they’re also pretty nice and incredibly sarcastic. You’re folding a piece of paper Octavia gave you a few minutes ago as you listen to them bicker about who’s the best between the two, and after five good minutes of arguments, Monty wins because he’s the only one who has a successful love life between them. He has been dating his boyfriend for years now, while Raven's latest relationship only lasted a few months. The brunette groans when Monty announces that he wins this one, and that’s when you finish the space rocket you promised Aden earlier.

 

“Or maybe it’s her,” Monty says as he looks at the neatly folded origami in your hand, “because that’s definitely a rocket ship and she makes it look easy to do.”

 

“Maybe,” you say as you stand the rocket on the table, “does me being first in my class while working part time and being able to make something like a hundred different origamis count?”

 

“You know what, we'll let Aden decide who’s the best,” Raven says then, and you give her a look of misunderstanding. “The one that gets called the closest to Clarke will be declared as best out of the three of us.”

 

You still don’t get it but nod, because that will probably make sense later, and you high five each other before you stand from the couch and join the others in the kitchen. Aden is eating his dessert, yoghurt all around his mouth, and you smile at the sight. You stand next to Clarke and deposit the space rocket next to her finished plate.

 

“You’re a sweetheart,” Clarke says and you just shrug, ruffling Aden’s hair before going back to the living room.

 

Sooner than you expected, Aden’s bed time comes, and suddenly the entire living room falls quiet. Clarke is with him in his room, tucking him in his bed, and Murphy is drum rolling on his legs, announcing that the sorting may start. Anya gives you a look but you just shrug, not understanding either. Lincoln supplies then, much to your comfort because you’re honestly lost.

 

“Aden has a few rituals for bedtime. The first one is the stuffed animals - he has one for each person he loves and needs to have them all to go to bed.”

 

“That explains the raccoon thing,” Anya tells you, and you nod. “Wait, Aden has a you?” Bellamy asks with a rather surprised face, and you nod at him. “Clarke got him a raccoon last week.”

 

Bellamy suddenly throws his hand in the air, looking desperate, and a few people laugh at his antics.

 

“The second ritual is that he will pick who gets to bid him good night by telling Clarke who he wants, and they will have to go to his room one by one. It’s kind of a game now; not everyone gets called, and the closer you get to Clarke, the more you’re loved.”

 

Well that explains why Raven told you that Aden would pick who’s the best. You don’t believe you have any chance to go in after one of his godmothers, but you guess you will at least go in.

 

“John, you're in,” Clarke calls, and you watch Murphy stand up from the couch, smirking at Bellamy on his way to the room. He stays in for a few seconds, just enough time to ask for a high-five from the kid and wish him a good night before going out. “Monty,” says the blonde, and the young Asian stands from the couch. Raven gives him a victorious smile. He goes in, ruffles the kid’s hair, and bows down to kiss him on the nose before wishing him a good night and going out.

 

Suddenly there’s a silence and no one gets called for a few minutes. Raven and you are staring at each other, waiting for one of your names to be called, and when it’s yours that is finally heard, the brunette throws her hands in the air in a winning motion. You shake your head with a small smile before walking toward the room.

 

Clarke is sitting on the floor next to the headboard of his bed, a book on her lap and a smile dancing on her lips. “Not bad for your first call,” she tells you as you go over Aden. The blonde boy sits up when he sees you and holds his arms up for you to hug him, which you do for seconds before letting go, making him lay down again on his bed. You prop a fast kiss on the top of his head before exiting the room. Raven goes in right after you, high fives him before hugging him and kissing him on the nose, and Octavia is the last one who gets called. The younger brunette closes the door behind her when she exits the room, and the conversation finally starts again, Octavia mentioning to you and Anya that the boy’s room got soundproofed over a year ago to avoid waking him up, especially since “Jasper is an asshole who doesn’t know how to keep it down, and he’s on his way, so.”

 

“Who else is coming?” Raven asks curiously as she props herself on the floor, back against the couch and sitting between Murphy’s legs.

 

“Miller is with Jasper, and maybe Echo, Emori, and Maya, but I’m not really sure.”

 

“Emori is,” Murphy supplies, “but only after her shift ends.”

 

And so what was supposed to be a get-together ends up being a small party. Jasper arrives with booze and hands beer bottles to anyone who wants one. When Clarke comes out of the room, about thirty minutes after Octavia closed the door, she notices the change, the thick smell of alcohol already floating in the air, and she can’t help but sigh heavily.

 

“Who’s driving?” she asks the living room, and Anya and Bellamy both raise their hands as a reply.

 

“I can trust you two not to drink, right?” she says as she looks back and forth between them. Anya raises her glass of soda for an answer, and Bellamy promises the beer he has in hands will be his one and only, which seems to convince the blonde.

 

Clarke walks over Bellamy and Murphy, and you go to the kitchen to get a refill of soda, but you soon realize it wasn’t a good idea, because before you can even do anything, Octavia walks in behind you, quickly followed by Raven who closes the door behind her. You raise a brow at them as you fill your glass and turn, settling your back against the counter.

 

The women standing in front of you on the other side of the table have their eyes locked on you and stay quiet for long seconds. You keep your head held high and glance between them without even thinking of weakening, but if you’re being honest, you’re not one-hundred percent comfortable right now.

 

“So,” Raven finally starts, and you lock your gaze on her, “how serious are you about this?”

 

You furrow your brows a bit, “About what?”

 

“About Clarke, dumbass,” Octavia replies, and if it weren’t for Lincoln _and_ Clarke, you realize Octavia wouldn’t be your first choice of company.

 

“What about Clarke?” you ask, still confused about what is happening in this very instant.

 

Then the door opens and closes again, and Anya steps in, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh, “Two against one isn’t fair, ladies,” she walks around the table and comes to your side, “and they’re asking you about your feelings for Clarke.”

 

“Oh so you’re the smart one,” Raven eyes Anya and a smirk grows on your friend’s mouth.

 

“Listen,” Octavia says then, “I’m not enjoying doing this to Lincoln’s best friend, but we have to. Clarke went through enough shit in her life; she doesn’t need someone to run away _again_.”

 

The pieces finally fall together in your mind, and you understand the point of this conversation. Of course, they are worried. You don’t know much about Clarke’s past relationship, but she’s a single mom for starters, so that means something happened with Aden’s dad. And since the boy never talks about him either, it probably means he never met him. They don’t want someone to walk into Clarke’s life and run away if things go further.

 

“Clarke really likes you, and we need to make sure you’re not going to screw this up,” Raven adds, and you nod your understanding.

 

“If I didn’t run away when I became _Heda_ , there’s no chance I’ll run away because she has a son.”

 

Raven makes a face, because she doesn’t understand what that means, and Octavia makes one, because she _does_ understand. Lincoln probably told her about the orphanage and the way it worked there. _Heda_ is Titus’s second; someone that is picked by the bald guy to help him take care of the kids, especially the young ones. While it’s true that everyone from the age of ten has to help, Heda is different: Heda wakes up at night if a baby has a nightmare; Heda feeds the ones that can’t feed themselves; Heda gives baths and changes diapers.

 

The orphanage you grew up in was pretty modest, not to say poor. Titus, while working his ass off, wasn’t capable of raising enough money to hire new people, so instead, he decided that the kids would be the ones helping him. And that’s a system that works great, because it teaches responsibility in a better way than anything else. Having two kids to care for while being in the orphanage dorm, having them be your responsibility, it builds people in a strong way. They learn how to make themselves be heard, how to compromise, how to make sure no one is missing anything, but also how to care for someone. It brought more people together than not.

 

That is how Anya, Lincoln, and you came together.

 

Anya is the oldest one of you three, and when she turned ten, she was assigned to you and Lincoln. That’s how you became family. And when you were thirteen, you already had one kid to take care of, but you were also helping the others, and Titus saw in you something you didn’t know was there: the soul of a leader. So he asked you to become his Heda, the person that would be making sure that everyone was okay, that no one was in need.

 

“How long?” Octavia asks after a quiet minute.

 

“From thirteen to eighteen. I could have left when I was sixteen. Anya proposed to take me in like she took Lincoln the year before, but I refused. Titus needed help.”

 

“Okay. Okay,” the brunette nods, “don’t break Clarke or Aden’s heart and we’re good. Break them and I’ll break you, though.”

 

“Break them and I’ll blow up your place,” Raven adds, and you look at her and Octavia for a few seconds.

 

“You guys know Clarke and I aren’t together, right?”

 

“Yet,” Raven interferes, “you’re not together yet, but if you think we hadn’t noticed the almost kiss earlier then you’re wrong.”

 

“Actually, I hadn’t,” her friend turns her head toward the Latina. “What happened?”

 

Raven waves her hand at Octavia and keeps her eyes on yours, brown orbs locked on you, “As we already stated earlier, Clarke really likes you, but Clarke will not take the first step because she believes herself to be un-datable because she has a son,” you’re about to open your mouth, because Clarke is definitely far from being un-datable and you want to kick the people that made her believe that so hard in the ass they will taste your shoe in their mouth, but the woman lifts her hand to shush you and it’s Octavia who pipes in, “and since we already know you like her, can you please do something about that? I’m gonna believe you when you say you won’t run away, so please don’t fuck that up, and take care of the sexual tension slowly growing between you two. Thank you very much.”

 

With that, the little brunette nods at you, nods at Anya, and leaves the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her. You look over at Raven, who nods for you to follow her friend, go back to the living room and _do something already_. So you leave the room, almost not hearing Anya ordering you to close the door when you’re out. You close it without really thinking about it and take a look at the people sprawled all over Octavia’s apartment.

 

Monty and Miller are on the floor, the Asian boy sitting between the legs of his friend, back against his chest as they discuss with Jasper, who’s sitting on the couch on their right. Octavia is sitting on Lincoln’s lap on the left of the couch, and they’re ignoring the rest of the world, giving each other some peace and quiet. Murphy and Bellamy are bickering, and Clarke seems to be keeping score until she spots you at the entry of the room. She leaves them as soon as her eyes lock on yours, walking rapidly in your direction. “Where’d you go?” she asks once she’s in front of you.

 

“I was getting a refill in the kitchen.”

 

“It took you fifteen minutes to refill your drink?”

 

You smile then, because of course she would have been checking on you.

 

“Maybe I had a little talk with Octavia and Raven, but that’s a matter for another time, Clarke.”

 

She furrows her brows and you just shake your head with a small smile dancing on your lips, and her brows furrow even more. “Trust me, Clarke, this is not important now.”

 

“Fine,” she huffs and turns her back on you. You expect her to walk away, but instead, she takes a few steps backward and settles herself against your chest. With your drink still in your hand, you don’t really know what to do, but Clarke takes your free hand in hers and puts it on her belly. Her fingers lace with yours without you realizing it, and before you know it, your chin rests on her shoulder.

 

You would be concerned by the display of affection if it weren’t for the fact that it feels oddly natural to be standing that way, with Clarke in your arms. Like your body was built to melt into hers, like you were made to be standing that way, somehow entwined together. You feel peaceful, your heartbeat kind of fast but steady, your breath coming out softly against some strands of her hair.

 

It almost feels like home.

 

You drop a kiss on Clarke’s shoulder and feel her shudder against your lips. She doesn’t turn her head or glance toward you, but you can feel her fingers tightening on yours and you smile against her, bringing her slightly closer to you.

 

This is great. The greatest.

 

You’re so fucked.

 

You don’t even care.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading guys ! Let's meet at the next update !
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcomed and I love you all !
> 
> Edit : don't mind me


	3. Dream Catcher and Paper Planes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Clarke is trapped at work and none of her usual people are free to pick up Aden? 
> 
> Or, 
> 
> Damn Lexa, back at it with the caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back ! Thanks to koalabear77 who just beta'd, here you go with the new update. Also, this is the last one before the epilogue that is currently being written !

 

 

The get-together had brought to you some feeling of closeness with Lexa – closer than what it already was before, at least.

 

Now you call her every two days at the end of her shift to make sure she hasn’t almost killed herself on delivery. With one of her class being cancelled on Monday, she came with you to pick Aden up from childcare. Seeing her surrounded by that many kids was the cutest; she would crouch in front of a few crying ones, ruffle some hair and so on until Aden stole her entire attention. She walked back toward you while you were speaking with one of the childcare workers about Aden’s day with your toddler simply sitting on her shoulders. Aden was so happy being up there that he couldn’t stop looking all around himself.

 

The ding of a new person coming in takes you out of your reverie and you hope for it to be your coworker, the one that’s supposed to take over in three minutes, but sadly, nope, it’s just a few customers. You sigh but plaster your face with the customer service smile as they walk toward the counter and order some drinks. Tristan better have a fucking good excuse for not being here yet because you are going to be late to childcare if he doesn’t show up sometime soon, and this is not something you take lightly. You’re not someone to get easily upset - it takes a lot to get on your bad side - but making you late to pick your son up isn’t the smartest thing to do to you.

 

While preparing the drinks the customers just asked for, you don’t see your manager in the back-room replying to his phone and making a face before shrugging and letting it go. He hangs up his phone after a few more minutes of talking and turns his attention toward the counter where you just finished the last drink of your order. You politely bid goodbye to the customers when they leave, and that’s when your manager steps behind the counter.

 

“Clarke.”

 

You turn your head toward him and you feel it coming, the bad news. Tristan bailed (again) and you have to stay (again).

 

“I’m sorry, can you do some extra?”  

 

“Let me guess, Tristan is sick _again_?”

 

“I’m sorry,” he says again with a sigh, “I’m going to try to find someone to replace you as soon as possible.”

 

He’s about to go back in the backroom when you call after him, “I need to make a phone call.”

 

“You’re on the clock; you know you’re not allowed.”

 

“Sure,” you say with an almost groan, “but I have a son that needs to be picked up from childcare in one hour, not in three when I’ll finally be able to clock out.”

 

“Come on, you’re not going to stay that long.”

 

You give him a look, as if to ask him if he wants to bet, and he suddenly seems nervous. “Fine, take a fifteen-minute break.” 

 

He takes the counter as you walk your way to the back room. God, freaking asshole. Tristan is going to hear from you as soon as you see his face again. You quickly get to your phone, open your texting application, and open a group conversation with Monty, Raven, and Octavia. You ponder the thought for a second, but as you need as much help as you can get, you end up adding Lexa and Murphy into it too.

 

Usually, your go-to people when you need someone to get Aden from the child-care are the three formers. You trust them more than anyone, as they’ve always showed support and proved themselves as helpful allies whenever you needed something. But on a Thursday afternoon, Octavia might be at work and your two favorite nerds might be in class.

 

Murphy and Lexa could be in class too, now that you think about it, but you know your mom is working right now, so that’s the best you got. (And no matter how much of an asshole Murphy is, he would totally bail class to get Aden for you, as long as he can brag about it to Bellamy afterward).

 

 **[17:08]       To :** Aden’s baby-sitters

                    **Subject :** guys, help, quick

 

Monty is the first one to reply, as always, and he understands the matter without you having to explain, but he’s not free at the moment: he has an exam in twenty-two minutes, tops. Then it’s Raven’s turn: she has the same exam, as it’s a class they took together. Well, that’s definitely not good for you.

 

You’re about to type a new message telling them not to worry and that you’ll figure something out when your phone starts buzzing in your hand and Lexa’s ID shows up on your screen as an incoming call. You pick up with a swipe on your screen and her voice is full of worry when she asks you if you’re okay.

 

“I’m trapped at work and have no one to pick Aden up. If no one comes to pick him up at six, they’re going to call child services on me, and I’m in mild panic because neither Monty nor Raven are free and Octavia’s not replying so she’s probably working and – “

 

_“Clarke, stop.”_

 

You immediately do so, her voice somehow soothing you. You can picture her calm and composed form on the other end of the line while you’re just being a mess right now. But hey, you can’t blame yourself for that. You’re not getting child services called on you and being accused of abandoning your own son because Tristan is a big enough asshole to not show up to work.

 

_“You’re going to call the childcare center and tell them that Alexandria Woods will pick Aden up today. I will have my ID with me as proof of my identity. And if I don’t die on my way, I should be there before six.”_

“I’ll text you the address of my coffee shop. Just bring him here when you have him?”

 

_“Of course. I’ll text you when I get there.”_

 

“Thank you, Lexa, really, you’re –“

 

_“You’ll thank me when I got him, okay? See you in a few.”_

And with that, Lexa ends the call. That doesn’t really surprise you, Lexa isn’t one for ‘thank you’s and such. She’s an action kind of woman. She probably was checking the route to the childcare center from wherever she was while on the phone with you. You make a quick call to the childcare center, relieved when Maya is the who picks up the phone – Maya is a sweetheart, which is not the case for everyone working there, and sometimes the director can be a little… bitchy. An ice cold bitch, if you’re being honest, but thank god, Maya is the best. She’s sweet and Aden’s favorite childcare worker and she understands your situation and tries to make it as bearable as she can for you.

 

Just like right now, as you explain her the troubles you’re in at work and how you won’t be the one to pick Aden up today. She senses the worry in your voice and softly tells you that it’s okay. She’s the one who closes up today, which means that even if your baby-sitter is late, she won’t call child protective services on you. Thank god for Maya. You end the phone call after numerous ‘thank you’s and plenty of apologies and take a look at your watch. You have one minute to straighten yourself up and go back to the counter. You shake your head and repeat to yourself that everything is going to be fine. You can definitely trust Lexa on that one. You shot her a quick text with the address of the coffee shop before you finally walk back to the counter, glancing toward your manager.

 

He gives you a tight smile and moves from the cashier to let you take your post, and you plaster your perfect customer smile on your face once more and take the next order in line.

 

You’re so going to kill Tristan next time he shows up.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

You just remembered why you usually don’t ride your bike in rush hour.

 

People drive like assholes.

 

You’ve been biking for the last ten minutes and you already almost got run over by a car three times at least. Rush hours are the worst. Sure, you totally understand the fact that people just got off work and want to go home; you also suppose that some of them, like Clarke, have to get their children back from childcare or school. But is that enough reason to forget your turning signal? Is that enough reason for running a red light?  Nope.

 

Driving laws exist for a reason, and not paying attention to them just because you’re in a hurry is the best way to have an accident and end up being late – if you don’t end up being dead, that is. And all the people driving on the bike/bus roads are going to drive you crazy. And you can’t even go on the sidewalk to avoid being hit by a car because, one, it’s illegal and, two, there’s way too many pedestrians at this time of the day and you’d be losing time. Time that you don’t have. 

 

Praying to whomever gods might be out there, you stand up on your pedals and speed up. Maybe if you go faster than them, they won’t be able to crash into you. You take a look at your phone screen, your GPS on display on your forearm, and notice the next turn you need to make. The street is right next to you, and you curse under your breath, sit back on your saddle, and make a sharp turn by slipping your rear wheel on the concrete. The sound coming from it is not really of your liking, so you know you will need to check that out as soon as you can, but you don’t stop. You’re standing back up on your pedals as soon as your turn is over, speeding up again.

 

The things you’d do for Clarke. And for Aden.

 

Seriously, you’ve known those two for something like four months and you’re already taking more risks for them on the road than you do during your deliveries – and your deliveries pay your bills, so that’s saying a lot. You don’t even know how this happened, but it’s been even worse since the get-together at Octavia’s.

 

A few weeks back, you and Clarke would be texting – a lot, yes, but only texting. Phone calls would only happen if necessary, which wasn’t often. But now? Now Clarke calls you like three or four times a week, and she knows when you work so that she doesn’t call you during your shifts. She calls you after Aden falls asleep around ten or eleven, and you two just share stories about your days. It feels oddly domestic and so normal that you tend to forget how much you usually hate phone calls.

 

You like them.

 

You like Clarke and Aden.

 

You have a massive crush on Clarke and you adore her son.

 

How fucked are you?

 

Your rear wheel screeches on the concrete when you reach the childcare center and you’re fast to lock your bike to the nearest lamp post before jogging your way into the building. Most of the kids are gone by now, the clock almost reaching the six mark, and you’re so glad you’re in time you allow yourself a sigh of relief when the door closes behind you.

 

Out of memory from when you came on Monday, you take your shoes off and put on the slippers the childcare center sets out for visitors. You leave your backpack at the entrance too and walk over to the main room. You also send a quick text to Clarke to let her know you arrived.

 

The childcare is quite big, big enough to have something like a hundred children in it. With all the doors, you guess there are a lot of a rooms that you don’t know of, but Aden, being almost three years old, is in the big section. At this hour though, you guess all the remaining kids are brought together for more facilities. That’s why you enter the main room; it’s the central one, with a lot of toys and books and mattresses and even a slide in the back of the room.

 

Aden is here with one of the childcare workers. She’s reading him and another kid a story. They are the last two of the day, and the blonde one still hasn’t noticed you. You walk slowly toward him and catch a few words of the story. It’s about a young knight that becomes friends with a young dragon. Aden is digging it, that much you can tell, as he’s not even blinking so that he can see all the images of the book.

 

When you reach the corner of the room they are sitting in, you crouch next to him and wait for the story to be over before getting his attention. The book is finished after a minute or so, and you put your hand on Aden’s head, cradling his hair like you have taken the habit of doing. It takes a few seconds for him to notice the contact, still entranced by the story he just heard, but when he finally does, he’s quick to stand on his feet and he jumps on you. Everything happens in a split second, so it takes you aback and you fall on your ass, Aden with his tiny arms around your neck as he hugs you tightly. You hug back, one arm around his back, and after a few seconds, he lifts his head from your shoulder to look behind you. He then looks back at you and asks, “Where’s mommy?”

 

“She’s at work. Someone didn’t show up so she had to stay.”

 

He makes a face, a sad one with a heavy pout, and his eyes get blurry very fast.

 

“Hey there, hey there,” you coo at him as you put a hand on his cheek, “we’re going to join her at work. She’s waiting for us.”

 

“She didn’t forgot me?” he says with a really tiny voice that almost breaks your heart.

 

“Like she could ever forget you, little one. She’s waiting for us. We have to go real fast, okay?”

 

He nods his head with a smile and you take him off you so that you can stand up. You turn to the childcare worker who serves you a warm smile. She then tells you about his day, how he enjoyed the garden earlier during the day, played with small cars, and ate well. He did wake up during night time with tears in his eyes, probably due to a nightmare, but he didn’t say much about it. He went back to sleep after being calmed down by one of the other workers.

 

You note everything in the back of your mind so that you will be able to tell all that to Clarke as soon as you join her, and then the worker explains to you what you have to do now before bringing Aden back outside. He needs to dress up, his shoes and coat being in the far corridor of the building.

 

Maya, if you heard Aden well, stands up with the last kid, Ontari, a brunette that is probably Aden’s age, and you propose the two a race to the corridor in question as you talk with Maya.

 

“Does he have nightmares often?” you ask and she shakes a no.

 

“Not that much, but you know, two years or so is the age of nightmares. Wolf or monster and such - they scare themselves when they play and sometimes it shows up while they sleep.”

 

You hum in agreement as you see Ontari winning the race, reaching the door of the corridor a second before Aden. He doesn’t seem upset about it, as he makes face at her and she replies with equally funny grimaces.

 

“Aden talks a lot about you,” Maya says then. “He even brought the rocket ship you made him to childcare once or twice. I think he really likes you.”

 

“I hope so,” you say as you reach the two kids and put a hand on both their heads. Ontari makes a face and gets away from you to go hide behind Maya, and you raise your hand in apology to her before going for the doorknob.

 

“Alright little one, let’s get dressed.”

 

It doesn’t take more than five minutes to dress Aden up and change his slippers to his shoes. When he’s all set up, you stand back up and gather everything that needs to be brought back home, like his little bag in which in you can see diapers and some cookies if he ever gets hungry. You cross back to the main room to reach the entrance, and Aden says goodbye excitedly to Ontari and Maya before running toward you to the door. You put your shoes back on, grab your backpack, and pry the door open. “Let’s go see mommy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

You didn’t really give much thought as to how Lexa was going to handle Aden and her bike. Lexa doesn’t know shit about the public transports in town, so you’re pretty sure she took her bike to go to the childcare, and now that you think about it, how the fuck is she going to carry Aden _and_ her bike? 

 

She texted you about twenty minutes ago, just a fast mono word text that said “here,” and nothing else since then. You’re really worried about the logistics of the situation she’s probably in right now. Sure, Lexa is nothing if not resourceful, but if you can’t even handle a walking Aden and his stroller, how will Lexa handle a walking Aden and her bike? The stroller holds itself up on its own - her bike doesn’t.

 

A new customer comes in, and you recognize him as being one of the regular patrons; you greet him with a smile when he announces his order, and you don’t even bother with telling the price as he knows it perfectly but just go over to the coffee machine to prepare his drink. When you turn around to hand it to him as he hands you the money he owns you, you notice a very tall human form outside of the windows on the right of the shop. You turn your head to look better as soon as your customer is gone from the counter and walking over to find a table, and well, it looks like Lexa actually found a way to carry both the bike and Aden at the same time.

 

Your blonde boy is up on Lexa’s shoulders as she struggles a bit to lock her bike up on the lamp post on the side of the coffee shop with just one hand. She always keeps one on Aden’s knee, always making sure that he’s steady on her shoulders as she moves around. When she’s finally done, you can practically hear her sigh of relief and you see her taking a U-turn to get to the door of the shop. Aden’s head goes down when she tells him to watch for the door, so that he doesn’t knock his head on the door frame, and then she pushes the door open, eliciting the usual ding that usually pisses you off so much.

 

For once, you’re happy to hear it.

 

“Mommy!” Aden all but shouts as soon as he sees you.

 

You kind of feel bad for the noise he makes on behalf of the customers that are still here, but honestly? You’ve been on the clock since nine this morning and it’s already half past six and you don’t care. You’ve been working for way more than what you were supposed to and you really, _really_ want to piss off your manager.

 

He’s still perched up on Lexa’s shoulders as the dark haired woman walks toward the counter. “Clarke,” she smiles at you, “can you help us?”

 

You’ve seen Lexa take Aden off her shoulders quite easily a few days back, so you raise a brow at her before she turns her back on you. “I had to carry the bike and him and, well, better safe than sorry.”

 

Lexa made a knot. With her braids. Behind Aden’s back to secure him.

 

Lexa made a knot with her braids to make sure your son wouldn’t fall off her shoulders at any given moment.

 

What have you done to deserve such a perfect person in your life?

 

Lexa is so caring and soft with Aden, so easily here whenever you need her and she has only known you for four months. It’s surprising to realize how important she is to you after just four little months of being in your life – you’ve developed the biggest crush you’ve ever had on anyone in those four little months, and it’s getting worse after each day that passes, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. When you see Lexa like this – with your toddler on her shoulders, Aden all smiles and bright eyes – you believe you two were meant to meet.

 

Lexa was meant to be in your life. And according to the way he adores her, Aden probably agrees.

 

You lift both your hands to get your finger to undo the knots Lexa made behind Aden’s back. It takes a few seconds of fidgeting with her hair before you finally free the four or so braids she used to secure your boy. When you’re done, your hands go to Aden’s armpits and you slowly ease him off Lexa shoulders and right into your arms, not really caring about being behind the counter. “Hey, love.”

 

“Mommy!” he exclaims once more before snuggling up against you, head on your shoulder and face hidden in your neck.

 

You look over at Lexa as you soothe Aden’s back with your free hand, the other one holding him against you, and mouth her a ‘thank you’ that she simply shrugs off. You turn your attention back to Aden and drop a kiss to the top of his head before making him break the hug. “How was your day today?” you ask him.

 

“Fun!” he replies and starts telling you all the things he has done and how he didn’t win the race against Ontari because she’s really fast. You smile at him, listening to everything, and add that maybe next time, he might win against her. He smiles happily at that and nods his head, saying that he’ll try to run the fastest he can. You drop a kiss on his cheek this time before the ding of a new customer coming in takes you aback and you almost sigh.

 

“Hey, little one,” Lexa says as she steps closer to the counter, “let’s go get a table, and I’ll show you something.”

 

She lifts her arms in his direction, but his grip on your neck gets tighter and his face goes to your neck again.

 

“Hey, buddy,” you say as you put a hand on his head for him to look at you, “it’s okay. You’re going to play a little with Lexa and once I’m done with work, we’ll play together, okay?”

 

“When?” he asks with a pout, and your hand goes to his cheek. Before you can even reply, though, the person you thought was a customer turns out to be your colleague, Harper, and _dear god finally_.

 

“Right about now,” says Harper with a sweet voice. “Clarke, get away from my counter.”

 

“Hell yes,” you reply. “Aden, go with Lexa and I’ll be with you in a few minutes, okay?”

 

Lexa lifts her arms once again, and this time he opens his toward her as she takes him against her hips, one arm secure around his back. “Wave to mommy. She’ll be back before you even notice she’s gone.”

 

He listens to her and waves at you, and you smile fondly at the sight of your little boy in your crush’s arms. Sometimes, you wonder who you sold your soul to to deserve those two.

 

Harper comes behind the counter and orders – an actual order that takes him so aback he actually listens – your manager to take the counter so that you two can go to the changing rooms. Once the door is locked behind you, your literally rip your working shirt off your body and throw it in your locker.

 

“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier, exams just started and things are kind of crazy in my schedule,” Harper says with a sorry smile and you raise a brow at her.

 

“Are you kidding? You’re my savior. I thought I was going to be trapped for three more hours.”

 

“Wait, when did you start?”

 

“Oh, you know,” you shrug, “at nine this morning.”

 

“Alright, I’m calling Zoé. We’re staking Tirstan first thing in the morning.”

 

“Wait, who’ll take over when you two are in jail and he’s dead?”

 

Harper gives it some thought before making a face. “Fair enough. But maybe they’ll hire new people.”

 

“Please,” you scoff, “we both know that’s never going to happen.”

 

Sadly, she nods as she buttons up her working shirt. “So that was your boy?”

 

A smile immediately plasters your face at the mention of Aden and you nod your head. You close your locker and start organizing your backpack.

 

“I must say, he’s cuter in real life than in pictures. But that’s maybe because you suck at taking pictures.”

 

You send a glare her way but you can’t help the playful smile on your lips. Harper is your favorite co-worker. She’s nice and hardworking – Zoé is too, but Zoé is kind of scary sometimes, and with Tristan being an asshole, it’s not really hard for Harper to be your number one.

 

“Who was with him? One of his god moms?”

 

“Oh, thank god no. Believe me, when you meet them, you’ll know. Octavia would be teaching Aden how to fight and Raven would be trying to blow up the shop.” You sigh because that’s so true, and you wonder how you ended with those two sometimes – you love them so much though. They’re the best, just a little bit too weird for anyone’s good.

 

“It was Lexa.” You pause for a second, but you feel the need to ad that she’s ‘a friend.’ Harper narrows her eyes at you for a second before nodding.

 

“Yeah, totally a friend,” she says sarcastically and you shove her away with your shoulder when you walk next to her to exit the room. She follows suit, all ready to clock in as you go to clock out.

 

You finally step out of the counter after what feels like an eternity when Harper gets her shift started. “Can you make me a latte, a cappuccino, and serve me a glass of milk, please?” you ask her and she nods. You chatter with Harper just a little more as she prepares your drink, and you would have been able to stay focused if it wasn’t for the paper plane that just landed in your hair. You hear Aden giggle on the side of the shop and look toward the table where he’s seated with Lexa. The brunette looks at you with her best innocent impersonation while Aden keeps giggling. You glare at them as you take the plane out of your hair and throw it back in their general direction. You’re not as good as them at throwing it because it just crashes a few meters from you, far from them, and Lexa throws a playful smile at you, at which you stick your tongue out.

 

“Totally friend, huh?” Harper says as she displays three full cups on a tray on the counter.

 

“Shut up. How much?”

 

“Just get away from my counter, Clarke. Go see your son and your _friend_.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Yeah yeah. By the way, I’m opening tomorrow, so like, take your time.”

 

“Okay, now I love you.”

 

“Don’t I know it.” She smiles at you and you wave her goodbye with one hand while the other holds the tray. You walk to the table and put the tray on it before sitting next to Aden, in front of Lexa, who had made a few paper planes for him to play with.

 

He’s a tiny ball of excitement and you’re so entranced by what he’s telling you – the first plane is like a plane people take but the second one is a really fast plane that can travel the whole world faster than anything else – that it takes a few minutes to notice how fucking _perfect_ Lexa is. She made him take his coat off and opened his light jacket so that he wouldn’t be too hot while inside.

 

She thinks of everything, always. And smiles softly at you when you push the latte cup in her direction. Pushing the planes to the side, you put Aden’s milk cup in front of him and Lexa stands up, going to the counter before coming back after a second, a straw in hand.

 

See?

 

Thinks of everything, just freaking perfect.

 

While explaining to Aden that he has to be careful with his cup, you extend one of your legs under the table. While your eyes never leave your boy as he takes the straw in his mouth, your foot finds Lexa’s. You’re afraid she might take hers away at the contact, but after a few seconds, you realize that she will not. Her foot against yours under the table is as steady as she is in your life. It actually softly knocks against yours once in a while as the three of you chatter together, just a reminder that she’s here.

 

She’s here.

 

She’s here, and deep down inside, you know that she’s not going anywhere.

 

She’s here and for the first time in a while, you’re not afraid. Lexa is here and she is not running away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

You’re in a hurry. In a fucking hurry because it’s already half past seven and Aden goes to bed around eight and you have to make it in time. Maybe she’ll put him in bed a bit later than usual since they only went home about fifteen minutes ago and she still needs to bathe him and stuff, but still, you have to be freaking quick or else, it won’t do.

 

You walked Aden and Clarke home after you guys shared a drink at the coffee shop. You talked for a while and you made extra paper planes for Aden to throw at home. He has enough paper planes to fill the Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, but he was so cute while asking again and again for a new one that you truly couldn’t say no – you wonder if you could ever say no to that one. He has his mother’s eyes, and the pout he makes when he’s sad is so heartbreaking it could melt the North Pole.

 

That’s all you’re thinking about while on your bike on your way to an old friend’s shop on the Far East of town. Well, old friend doesn’t quite cover it. Gustus has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember, but that’s more because he and his biker gang used to visit the orphanage when you were a child. They would come in, all big and scary as hell, and sit down with the kids, read them stories, play house and dolls for as long as the kid wanted. And when Anya reached the age of sixteen and left the orphanage, they took her in and she became one of them. She’s still an honorary member at the moment, but Gustus made her go to college when she turned twenty because she had capabilities, and sure, it’s great to be a biker, but he wanted her to see every turn her life could take before she made a final choice. Five years later, Anya graduated with a degree in art history, and she has been working in a gallery for the past year. She still visits Gustus and the rest of the gang quite often, whenever she has enough time to do so, and Gustus visits the gallery she works at whenever a new exposition happens.

 

Gustus is family; he’s the uncle you never had.

 

Gustus also happens to own his own shop in town and keeps it open sometimes when he’s not on the road. It’s not really a shop; it’s more of a counter he stands behind all day with things made of metal and string and wood and pretty much everything he and his people can find. It’s pretty cool. You remember how your eyes would light up whenever Gustus would bring things to you and the kids at the orphanage when they were visiting with the gang. You particularly remember the dream catchers he brought once, one for each room so that the kids would sleep well. You need one for Aden.

 

Now, let’s be honest, you’re twenty-two, you don’t really believe it works like you did when you were eight. But kids like Aden? They believe in magic. With the right words and the right amount of persuasion, he will believe it works too. And he kind of needs one, because while talking with Clarke earlier today, you told her about Aden’s nightmare at naptime and she told you that he has had a few in past nights too, waking up crying around two or three in the morning. A dream catcher could do him some good.

 

Your rear wheel screeches when you reach the counter, and you stop right in front of it with a sigh of relief. It’s still open – well, Gustus is cleaning and packing so that he can close soon, but it’s you so you know he won’t be mad.

 

“Hey,” you say as you get down from your bike and put it against the wall of the counter. When the heavy bearded guy lifts his head to see you, his face lights up and he stands from his stool only to knock his head on the ceiling and groan. He sits back right away, a hand on his head, and you smile when you ask him if he’s okay – you know for certain that pretty much nothing can actually hurt this guy. He’s probably made of steel or something.

 

“Lexa,” he replies with a smile, still rubbing his head. “Yeah, I’m good. I just really need to find someone smaller to hold the shop.”

 

You smile at that because he probably knocks his head on a daily basis, and yet, he’s still here. And whatever he says, you know he would never give the shop to anyone else.

 

“What are you doing here this late?” he asks then with a raised brow.

 

“Do you still have dream catchers?”

 

Gustus’s brow goes higher on his forehead, almost disappearing behind the fuzzy hair on his forehead, but he nods nonetheless and turns on his stool, reaching down and moving a few boxes on the floor before finding the one he needs. Then he turns back to you and opens the box on the counter you’re resting your arms on.

 

“Any color you’d like?”

 

You give it some thought, pondering what might be Aden’s favorite color. You remember his room at Octavia’s. “Blue or purple. Or both.”

 

The tall guy nods, reaching inside the box and moving a few of the dream catchers on top before he finds one that suits the color you asked for. It’s a simple one, not as intricate as the green one you can see on top of the others in the box.

 

This one is actually perfect. Just one circle to which three blue feathers are attached, and inside the circle, purple strings cross each other in the middle and draw an intricate pattern, similar to a mandala. Perfect.

 

“How much is it?”

 

He raises a new brow at you, as if to ask you if you’re serious, and yes, you are, so you take your wallet out of your pocket and start opening it.

 

“Lexa, put that down right now.”

 

“No,” you reply without even batting an eyelash, and you take a ten-dollar bill out of your wallet.

 

“Alexandria Woods.”

 

That stops you in your tracks because _no one_ calls you that, and you lift your eyes to the guy. “Indra is going to murder me if I tell her that you paid for it, so just take it and leave so that I can close.”

 

You grumble a few curse words under your breath before taking the dream catcher that Gustus enveloped in some craft papers and putting it inside of your backpack, safely inside of one of your heavy books so that it won’t deteriorate on your way to Clarke’s.

 

“You’re lucky I’m in a hurry. Say hi to everyone for me.”

 

He nods his head with a smile and tells you to leave, and you smile back at him before getting back on your bike. Alright, now you had to go back to Clarke’s place, preferably before a quarter past eight. You wave one last time at Gustus, who waves back, before making a U-turn with your bike and leaving. As soon as you can get down from the sidewalk and get on the actual road, you stand up on your pedals and speed up. Now to hope you can make it on time, because Clarke kind of lives at least twenty minutes away from here, and it’s already getting late.

 

Time to be on time and to _not_ die on the road.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When you put PJs on Aden, you have this habit of sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with your boy usually sitting on your legs. He sits here like he’s on a throne, back straight and hands on your knees as if they were arm chairs. He sits like a king, and that’s seriously the cutest thing ever.

 

Oh, and he’s ticklish. He’s ticklish as hell, so whenever he tries to escape – like, just now, he’s only wearing socks and a diaper and he’s trying to get something under his bed – you trap him against you with one of your arms and tickle him until he asks for a truce.

 

It takes a few minutes of laughter today, but eventually he gives in and sits back on your legs so that you can help him put his pull on. It takes some more time to dress him completely – especially because you almost die of laughter when Aden tells you to “stop doing that.”

 

“Doing what?” you asked, because you weren’t doing anything in particular. He’s used to you putting his slippers on his feet, so that probably wasn’t it. But then he said “breathing” and it took you aback for a second. You realized after laughing for a few minutes that he was talking about puffing air on his ear because it was tickling him, but your son just told you to stop breathing, and honestly, toddlers are fantastic.

 

Once he’s all ready, dressed up for bedtime, you tell him that he can play for a bit, just long enough so you can clean everything from dinner and bath time before you put him in bed. He complains a bit, but you shrug it off, reminding him that bedtime is bedtime and that if he’s too tired tomorrow, he won’t be able to play with his friends at childcare. That seems to convince him enough – that or the fact that the Captain America doll Monty bought him a few weeks back that he just found had made him forget about being mad at you.

 

Cleaning is easy. You didn’t really cook, just heated some leftovers from yesterday for Aden, so you just have one plate to rinse in the kitchen. Then there’s the bathroom, where you have to hang to dry Aden’s bathrobe along with his towel.

 

Once everything is hung and cleaned and all the useless lights are off, you go to Aden’s bedroom.

 

“Teeth brushing, love.”

 

Aden groans but puts his doll down nonetheless and follows you to the bathroom. He has a footboard he stands on so that he’s high enough to reach the sink. You get his toothbrush ready while he makes faces at himself in the mirror above the sink. You hand him his toothbrush and remind him to brush his molars as well as he brushes his incisors. For three minutes, he brushes and brushes again all of his tiny teeth before spitting and rinsing his mouth with a cup of water. 

 

“Bed now,” you say as you lift him in your arms to carry him to his bedroom and put him in his bed. You lay him down first before taking his slippers off his feet and putting them on the floor. Then, when you’re about to put him under the covers, you hear a knock on your door. Which is weird considering the hour.

 

“Did you hear that?” you ask him, and he nods.

 

“Maybe it’s a thief!” he says, and you smile.

 

“Thieves don’t knock, love.”

 

The knock happens again, and you sigh. You grab the first thing you can find – the Captain America doll he was playing with earlier – and hand it to him. “Stay in bed. I’ll be quick.”

 

He doesn’t even nod as he starts playing, and you stand up from your spot on the floor and walk toward your front door. When you open the door, slowly because you’re kind of worried of who that might be and you’d rather be surprised slowly, you see an almost cloud of messy black curls and raise a brow. You open the door wide and look at the newcomer. “Lexa?”

 

She’s fidgeting with a small paper bag, and that makes your brow rise even higher on your forehead.

 

“Sorry,” she replies. “I know it’s late, but – here.”

 

She hands you the bag, and you’re even more skeptical now. You open it anyway, and Lexa starts talking again. “It’s a dreamcatcher. I know two to four years old is the age of nightmares and stuff, but it’s also the age of magic so… with the right amount of convincing, he’ll believe in it and his nightmares should decrease. At least, it worked for me.”

 

Now that you have the dreamcatcher in your hands and have looked at it for a few seconds, you lift your eyes and look at Lexa. She is her usual self, calm and steady, her voice unwavering, but you can see it in her eyes: she’s a least slightly embarrassed. That brings a smile to your face.

 

“Come in,” you say softly and hand her the dreamcatcher. “You’re doing the convincing.”

 

That makes her smile, and you move away from the door so that she can come in. She does and discharges her bag and shoes at the entrance, along with her jacket which she puts down on a chair in the living room. You motion for her to follow as soon as she’s comfortable, and you two go to Aden’s bedroom.

 

“Love,” you say when you enter the room and he looks at you, “look who’s here.”

 

Lexa enters the room right behind you, and Aden’s face lights up when he sees her. He opens his mouth to say her name, but a yawn escapes his lips instead. “Lexa,” he says once he’s done, and she smiles at him before dropping on her knees next to his bed.

 

It’s hard for you not to melt while watching the scene that follows. Lexa is showing the dreamcatcher to Aden, but instead of explaining him what it is, she tells him a story. A story about a young knight: he’s very brave during the day, fighting dragons and thieves and all kind of evil that may show up. But when the night comes, when he tries to sleep at night, he fears. He can’t bring his sword to bed, and there might be monsters under his bed or in his drawer. How bad would that be, if he couldn’t protect himself from the monsters? The young knight could never sleep well. But in the town he was living at, there was a magician who said he could cure everything. The young knight went to visit him and told him about his troubles. The magician gave it some thought and then went looking into his shop. Eventually, he found something that could help the knight sleep better: a dreamcatcher.

 

“A dreamcatcher no different than this one,” Lexa says as she points at the one Aden is holding in his tiny hands. “The magician told him to hang it beside his bed: the dreamcatcher will protect him at night. He would have nothing to fear.

 

“The young knight was skeptical, but really needed a good night sleep. So he took the dreamcatcher and went back home with it. When bedtime came, he put on his PJs, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. He took his slippers off and lay in bed, the dreamcatcher in hand. He looked at it for a few seconds before hanging it on the nearest wall…”

 

Thanks to the pin you had the presence of mind to give her while she was telling her story, Lexa helps Aden. Together, they hang the dreamcatcher on the wall near Aden’s head so that he can see it even while he lies down.

 

“Then,” Lexa says as she helps Aden back down on his bed and covers him with the covers, “his mommy came to kiss him goodnight.”

 

You understand what she tries to say and walk toward them, bowing down over Aden’s bed. His eyelids are already heavy with sleep, but he raises his arms for you to hug him anyway, so you do so. The hug lingers for a few seconds before he lets go, and you drop a kiss on his forehead, wishing him a good night and reminding him that you love him.

 

“Surrounded by his mommy’s love, all of his stuffed animals, and with his favorite pacifier in his mouth, the young knight started to fall asleep. Thanks to the dreamcatcher hanging on the wall, he knew he had nothing to fear. Because the dreamcatcher would be keeping him safe during the night…”

 

Aden is asleep by the end of her sentence, his tiny lion plush resting on his chest. You and Lexa stay in the room for a few more minutes so that he can drift deeper into sleep before you move out of the room. Two small lights are still on, one on a stool not far from his bed and another one coming from your room – he sleeps with the door open and it reassures him to see light coming out of your bedroom, the door of which faces his directly.

 

After five minutes and with Aden breathing evenly, you tap Lexa’s shoulder and nod toward the door when she looks at you. She nods and stands up silently from the floor. You glance one last time toward the sleeping form that is your son at the moment and smile fondly at the sight before you follow Lexa out of the room.

 

“How did you come up with this?” you ask her once you two are back in the living room, out of Aden’s ears’ reach – one sound could be enough to wake him up, so your voice is barely above a whisper.

 

“I just… did,” she shrugs, “I kind of expected you to kick me out after I gave you the dreamcatcher, because it’s late and everything, so I had to come up with something.”

 

“Well that was impressive. I think I should tell that to Murphy so that he can come up with this kind of story for kids.”

 

That makes her smile. “If he wants dreamcatchers, I know of a place.”

 

It’s your turn to smile, and she looks at her watch and her wrist before she sighs, “I should go. It’s getting late, and you’re working tomorrow.”

 

You nod your approval of that, but something sinks in your stomach when you walk her to the door and watch her retrieve her bag and put her shoes back on. Something that has been here for a while, now that you think about it, but you never had the courage to do anything about it. You like Lexa. You really do. And Lexa is here and taking care of you as much as she takes care of Aden.

 

Lexa is here.

 

And she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

 

Lexa is here.

 

Except that she’s at your door right now, about to leave to go back to her place when she could, actually, be staying.

 

The door is open when you call after her, just when she’s about to go out, one foot inside and the other out on your doormat. The brunette turns her head in your direction with risen brow, as if to ask you if everything is okay. And you want to say that, yes, everything is okay. It’s even more than okay since she stepped into your life, but the words are caught in your throat. You can’t find anything to say. So instead, you take a step forward, cup Lexa’s cheek with your hand and kiss her.

 

You kiss her.

 

You kiss her and after the first seconds of surprise, she kisses you back. She’s soft against your lips and tastes like an endless spring day where everything is green and the flowers are blooming and – _seriously Clarke, how fucking deep are you?_

 

One of her hand gets to your neck while the other rests on your hip, and when you pull back slightly, you swear you can hear her whimper. You drop a peck, and then another one, on her mouth. “You sure you have to go?”

 

“No,” she mumbles against your lips as she softly pushes you backward. “I was just being polite.”

 

“Screw that,” you reply as you kiss her again. You can feel her smile against your mouth as she closes the door behind her, both of you still very inside. You then help her out of her backpack, and you two stumble into the living room while still kissing.

 

And that is how the most intense make-out session you ever had in your entire life started.

 

It ends with you straddling her on your couch, in the middle of the living room, biting at her lower lip lightly.

 

“We should have done that sooner,” you say before you drop a peck on her mouth, and she smiles. Her hand gets to your face and she pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in the process.

 

“Definitely,” she says as she leans in and kisses you again.

 

Her lips are sweet and soft, and she kisses you slowly yet deeply. Her hands are calloused and her thumb is steady on your cheek, her other fingers brushing some baby hair on the base of your neck. God, you can feel hardship behind those palms, time and time of work. All the days she spent taking care of kids at the orphanage, all the hours she spends biking for work. This woman who is twenty-two and who has been living enough for two already, this woman who is so sweet and soft toward you and your son, this woman who is so lovely and caring, is kissing you right now and you can’t help but whimper when she nips at your lower lip. You grant her the access right away, and when her tongue meets yours, you swear you can see stars as thousands of butterflies get free in your stomach.  

 

You’re about to deepens the kiss when you here a distinct knock on your door, and you groan against Lexa’s mouth. Seriously? Now of all time?

 

“Are you expecting anyone?” the brunette asks as she leans back.

 

“No one that I’m aware of.” You sigh when the knock strikes again and stand from your position on Lexa’s laps to go get the door. Your friend is right behind you when you open the door, because it’s late, almost ten, and only god knows who could be knocking at your door at that hour.

 

Raven appears behind the door, and you open it wide to take a proper look at her. “Rae, you look like hell. What the fuck?”

 

She does. She looks like she hasn’t sleep in two days and/or has been crying for three hours, which is weird.

 

“Geez, Griff, again with the sweet words.”

 

The Latina spots Lexa in the corner of the door when she walks to come in and stops right in her tracks.

 

“Shit, I shouldn’t have come.”

 

“Raven, get your ass in my house,” you tell her before she can actually turn and leave without a word. She looks at Lexa, who moves to give her enough space to come in, and walks in after a few seconds of awkwardly standing in the corridor. When you close the door behind her, you turn your attention back to Lexa who gives you a soft smile. “I should go.”

 

“Sorry,” you tell her, and she shakes a ‘no,’ still smiling. She gathers her stuff, her backpack from the floor, and retrieves her phone and strap from inside of it before putting it on her back.

 

“Text me when you get home?” you ask, and she makes a face as she looks at her phone.

 

“I’ll text you when I’m at Anya. She seems to be having an existential crisis; I need to go check on her.”

 

You make a face too, because Anya doesn’t seem like the kind of person to have existential crises. She’s stoic and fierce and seems to be the kind of woman that is strong enough to destroy any kind of wall life could put in her way. Weird.

 

“Okay,” you say then, and Lexa lifts her eyes toward you once her phone is in its strap around her arm. You lock eyes for a few seconds, forgetting about everything surrounding you. But then Raven groans, “God, just kiss the damn girl already,” before leaving the living room for the kitchen. That makes both you and Lexa chuckle, especially when the brunette mentions for only you two to hear that you already did that. But nonetheless, Lexa takes a few steps in your direction and drops a fast kiss on your lips. “If I don’t text you in twenty-five minutes, assume I’m dead.”

 

“You need to stop talking about your death.”

 

“Your mom is the one who always brings it up.”

 

“You two need to stop talking about your death.”

 

Lexa smiles before kissing you again. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

 

And she does. She turns on her heels and goes for your door. When she opens it, she looks one last time behind her shoulder, throwing a smile your way before she steps out and closes the door behind her back.

 

You retrieve your phone from the living room’s table before going to the kitchen where Raven is pouring herself a cup of coffee.

 

“Care to tell me why you look like you’re about to die?”

 

“Please tell me you and Lexa were making out.”

 

“That’s beside the point, Raven.” she groans as she takes a sip of her drink and you sigh. “Yes we were, but still not the point.”

 

“So you two are getting somewhere, right?”

 

“Uh, I guess? We didn’t really talk.”

 

The brunette groans again, and just as you’re about to ask her why she’s here again – spying on your love life at ten on a Thursday night is sure as hell classic Raven, but she actually looks exhausted, so – your phone buzzes in your hand. 

 

You take a look at your screen and can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face at the sight of Lexa’s name. You open the text she just sent you with a simple push on the right part of your screen, and when you can finally read the few words she wrote (probably while walking down the stairs of your building), your smile gets even wilder.

 

“Yes, Raven, Lexa and I are getting somewhere.”

 

“Ugh, _finally_.”

 

“But you still look like hell.”

 

“Fuck you.” 

 

“She’d be doing just that if it wasn’t for you. Care to tell me why you look like a truck ran you over?”

 

She knows you don’t mean it, that it’s not an accusation or anything, but she apologizes anyway – and okay, that’s weird. You’re in for a long night.

 

You put your phone on the kitchen table, screen still showing Lexa’s text. It’s a simple sentence, but right now, it almost means the world to you:

 

 **[10:08] From:** Lexa

              **Subject:** Just so we’re clear: I’m pretty serious about this.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this universe will also be post a Ranya OS - that is in production right now. 
> 
> I hope you liked it guys ! Comments, kudos and feedbacks are welcomed, and don't forget to go say hi to koalabear77 on tumblr @ imjustakoalabear ! 
> 
> Love you guys very much !


	4. A life that's been loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aden grows up, probably a bit too fast for Clarke and Lexa's liking. 
> 
> Or, 
> 
> Bits and bobs of Aden's getting older.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone ! Humm well, first of all, I am extremely sorry for the delay. As some of you may know, I am a year late and, well; I hope you guys aren't too mad. If you are, feel free to swear at me in the comment section, I deserve it. 
> 
> But ANYWAY, I finally finished it, and here it comes, the final update of Origamis ! Thanks to all of you who waited for the update, and thanks to koalabear77 who helped me while I was writting this. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it !
> 
> Note : Dax Mulligan was borrowed from EffortlesslyOpulent and Sam_kom_trashkru's Catch me, I'm falling, and you guys haven't read that story yet, go treat yourselves !

Aden is three and sleeping at his grandmother’s.

Lexa and Clarke both decide to enjoy the night and go on their first real date.

It’s a disaster.

They’re late to the restaurant for no real reason – Lexa was on time at Clarke’s place, and the blonde was all ready when she arrived, but somehow they didn’t make it in time. Clarke then spills her drink on Lexa’s white shirt, and when the moment to pay comes, Lexa realizes she forgot her credit card home, resulting in Clarke having to pay for the meal. Of course the blonde doesn’t mind, but that doesn’t seem right to Lexa, who promises to pay her back next time. Then they decide to go for a walk in town and it starts raining. Everything is shit, and when they finally reach Clarke’s place after minutes and minutes of walking under the pouring rain, they’re drenched to the bones.

No really, if Clarke were to rate the date, it would be a one out of ten. Thankfully, though, the company is a fucking twelve out of ten, so like, it was almost perfect – classic Lexa to make something that bad that great, really.

They share a deep kiss on Clarke’s doorstep, one that Lexa initiates much to Clarke’s pleasure, and after a few minutes of heavy making out, Lexa leaves Clarke with a promise to check the weather before she plans their next date. That leaves Clarke drenched on her doorstep with a dreamy smile on her lips.

A perfect disaster.

 

Aden is three and Clarke kind of didn't expect him to tell his grandmother how often Lexa comes over to he and his mom's place.

But now, she's screwed.

Abby comes by on a Saturday afternoon, Aden in her arms, bringing him back home after a night at her place. The boy quickly hugs his mom before running off to his room and his toys, and Clarke offers a cup of coffee to her mother, asking her how the day and night went.

“I didn't know Lexa gave him the dream catcher,” Abby simply states, and Clarke goes silent for a second. As far as her mom is concerned, after their first meeting at the hospital, Clarke and Lexa never saw each other again.

Maybe, just maybe, Clarke should have told her mom.

“She gave me her number back at the hospital,” Clarke explains. “We kind of stayed in touch after that.”

“Kind of stayed in touch,” Abby muses, an amused smile dancing on her lips.

“Don't give me that look,” the blonde groans, but her mom just keeps looking.

“You know, Lexa is a great kid,” Abby says then, not really surprising Clarke. Everybody thinks highly of Lexa, herself first. She's more than just a great kid. She's a freaking amazing woman, if Clarke were to state her point of view.

“I know.” Clarke nods. “Actually, we're -”

A familiar jingle of keys is heard in the corridor, and before Clarke finishes her sentence, the door opens and Lexa's voice calls after her from the entrance.

“I got the avocadoes and Aden's cocoa pounder,” she says as she walks in the kitchen before stopping dead in her track at the sight of Abby.

“Kind of stayed in touch,” Abby repeats as she looks at her daughter and then looking over at Lexa.

The brunette freezes in the middle of the kitchen door, holding a plastic bag full of some groceries – more than just avocadoes and Aden's coca pounder.

“Well Lexa, I'm glad to see you out of my hospital.”

“Uh, me too, Doctor Griffin, me too...”

Lexa shots an awkward smile at Abby, and Clarke just sighs.

“Mom, please meet Lexa, my girlfriend. Lexa, please meet my mom, Abbigail Griffin,” she says as she comes next to the brunette and takes the bag of groceries from her hands and sets it on the table. She starts unloading the bag, and Lexa kind of snaps back into reality.

“I also got him a new pacifier, same as his lost favorite one.”

“You're a god send,” Clarke says as she gets said pacifier out of the bag, right before turning around and kissing Lexa's cheek quickly.

Bedtime had been hell for the past few days because of that lost pacifier, honestly. Clarke couldn't be happier as she was ripping the package open to retrieve it and wash it with hot water. Abby is about to ask something when Aden comes barging in the kitchen, jumping at Lexa who catches him under the arms to lift him up against her hip. The question dies right in Abby's throat as Aden tightly claps his arms around Lexa's neck and she drops a kiss on his head, rocking him back and forth, before asking about his day. Her question answered itself without even needing to be asked.

“I'm gonna go,” Abby says as she sets her cup of coffee by the sink. “I'll see you later. Call me if you need anything.”

She's out the door in no time after a kiss on both Clarke and Aden's heads, and when the door shuts, Lexa lets out a breath.

“Holy duck,” Lexa sighs. “I was kind of worried there.”

“She has yet to give you the talk,” Clarke reminds her, and Lexa shudders a bit at the thought.

 

Aden is three and it’s his first day of school.

Lexa is not here, so instead of crying on her shoulder, Clarke is crying on Raven’s, who freed herself to accompany her best friend and godson to the boy’s school. It’s his first day. He will not remember it, but Clarke will, and she definitely needs someone to wipe the tears away from her cheeks.

When it’s time to go in, Raven bows down so that Aden can drop a kiss on her cheek before Clarke crouches down before him. The blonde boy lets out a sigh before he hugs his mom and starts reassuring her. Clarke almost laughs at herself because, seriously, it’s her boy’s first day at school and he’s the one telling her that they’ll see each other by the end of the day when she comes to pick him up. Still, she can’t help but hug him tightly before he drops a kiss on her wet cheek and waves at her and Raven one last time. He then enters the school and Clarke is crying even more.

She shouldn’t even be crying right now. It’s not really a big deal for Aden to be going to school, but somehow now she understands why her parents were always complaining about her growing up too fast. Aden is already three and he won’t stop growing up. Soon enough he’ll be a teenager, then a young adult, and before she even realizes it, he will be leaving the house to go off to college, and that makes her crying even worse.

She takes reassurance in the fact that she’s not the only parent who is a crying mess right now, as other people are wiping off their cheeks in front of the school. Raven sighs at her but holds her nonetheless, waiting for her to run out of tears before complaining about her poor, sensitive self.

“Fuck you,” she groans between sobs, and the brunette smiles at her.

“Glad to know you still have it in you, Griffin.”

 

Aden is four and Clarke and Lexa have been dating for almost a year.

Clarke is exhausted when she gets home from work. All she wants is to curl up in her bed and sleep this entire day off, but things don’t go according to plan.

When she gets home, Aden is standing up in one of the corners of the living room, facing the wall. When you ask Lexa about it, she explains calmly that she had to punish him because he didn’t listen to her. You don’t let her finish.

She knows she’s being unfair because really, it’s not Lexa’s fault if she hates her job and that her manager is an asshole, but the brunette just gave her the perfect reason to snap at her and things exploded rather quickly (Clarke had the presence of mind to send Aden to his bedroom before things went to shit, thank god). Words are exchanged and voices raised in between the walls before the blond ends up yelling at Lexa that Aden is not her son.

The words are out of her mouth before she can even think of them, and she regrets them immediately. But she knows it’s too late as she sees the way Lexa’s eyes darken when she hears them.

“Right,” she huffs before gathering her things and leaving the apartment. The door is shut closed before Clarke can even start formulating an apology, and a heavy silence suddenly surrounds her. Fuck.

“Mommy?” Aden’s tiny voice asks from the corridor, and Clarke plasters a smile on her face before walking toward him.

She opens her arms to him and he is fast to get in so that she can lift him from the floor and hold him against her hips. Clarke drops a kiss on his cheek before he lets his head fall on her shoulder, his tiny arms around her neck, hugging tight.

“I’m going to cook dinner, okay?”

“Where’s Lexa?” he asks then. “You were shouting…”

“It’s okay, love, it happens sometimes between big persons.”

Clarke can’t see his face from the way he is hugging her, but the kid is thinking deeply. After a few minutes of silence, he finally opens his mouth again. “I didn’t listen three times so she punished me.”

His voice is small, and if it weren’t for the closeness between his mouth and Clarke’s ear, she probably wouldn’t have heard him, especially when he adds that what he did three times is drawing on the wall of his bedroom.

Clarke soothes Aden’s back with one hand, holding him against her with the other. “Well, we will both have to do something when Lexa gets back. Do you know what that is?”

“What?”

“We will have to apologize to her, okay?”

“I have to apologize because I didn’t listen but… why do you?” he asks, confused.

“I said really mean things to Lexa, and when you are mean to someone, you have to apologize.”

Aden nods and tells you about something that happened at school. The teacher made Ontari apologize to Artigas for kicking him, but really, “it was Artigas’s fault because he pulled at Ontari’s hair but the teacher didn’t see.”

 

Lexa comes back a few hours later, ten minutes after Aden’s bedtime, and Clarke is surprised to see her back this early after the fight. She’s sitting on the couch, phone in hand, trying to figure out a text to send to her when she hears the familiar sound of keys jingling before the door opens and closes. It’s quiet, followed by sounds of shoes being taken off. When she walks into the living room, Clarke immediately stands up, but Lexa stops her dead in her tracks by simply raising her hand.

Without a word, the brunette walks into the next corridor and straight to Aden’s bedroom. The boy is already asleep but she goes and drops a kiss on his head nonetheless before coming back to the living room. She sits on the far side of the couch and crosses both her legs and arms.

“I’m still upset,” she says as she looks at the black TV screen facing her. “I’m still upset because you yelled at me for doing what you made me promise to do a few months back. You made me promise to get involved in Aden’s education just as much as in my relationship with you. I’m doing just that and you yell at me so I’m upset. But I’m also not running away, so I’m going to be upset here.”

Her jaw is clenched and her fingers are holding tightly on her arms, her knuckles slowly becoming white.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says eventually. “I wasn’t mad at you, I just – It’s not an excuse, but I’m mad at my job and my superiors and I can’t yell at them so instead I yelled at you and I’m sorry, Lexa. Really.”

Lexa is still stiff, still looking at the screen, still tensed.

“He told me about drawing on the wall three times so I know you were right about punishing him. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Clarke lets the silence fill the room after this one sentence, knowing that she doesn’t need to remind Lexa what she said. It is true that Aden is not her son; she is well aware of it and doesn’t need to be reminded.

Silence fills the room for several minutes, with Lexa sitting stiff on her side of the couch and Clarke sitting on the other side, fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie she is wearing. After a while, and a lot of debating with herself, Lexa finally uncrosses her arms and legs and even lifts her right arm toward Clarke. It only takes half a second for the blonde to snuggle against her side, her head on her neck and an arm flung around her belly to hold her against her.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde repeats, and Lexa just sighs.

“It’s okay.” To emphasize her words, the brunette drops a kiss on Clarke’s hair before she rests her head against her. “It’s okay.”

 

Aden is five and Clarke never really explained to him what was happening between her and Lexa.

He never saw them kiss, she is sure of that. Lexa isn’t really one for public displays of affection, and when she stays over, she either sleeps on the couch or makes sure to be awake before him.

Clarke always thought he had no idea of what was happening between her and Lexa. Until today.

It’s Sunday and Clarke is off, doodling in the living room while Aden plays in his room. When snack time rolls in, Aden comes into the living and Clarke asks him to sit on the couch as she goes to the kitchen to get him a cookie. When she gets back, the boy has his deep thinking face on, and that makes his mom raise a brow on her face.

“Everything ok, love?” she asks as she sits next to him and hands him his cookie.

He doesn’t take the cookie right away but instead lifts his eyes toward his mother. “You know it’s okay, right?” he asks, and Clarke raises her second brow on her face, confused as hell.

“What is?”

“That you look at Lexa like auntie O look at Linc. It’s okay.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but she’s at loss for words right now. Her own son is giving her the talk. How smart that kid can actually be is a freaking mystery.

“Are you telling me that she can be my lover?” she asks him when she finds her ability for speech again, and the blonde boy nods as he takes his cookie from her hand.

“If you want her to be,” he shrugs.

He then explained to Clarke how they talked about family earlier during the week at school, and how there are different kinds of love. Sometimes it’s between a man and a woman, but sometimes it’s not. Tris, one of his schoolmates, has two dads, and Ontari only has her mom, but she’s more often with her brother than her. They talked about love then, and how some people will like men and others women and how that’s okay.

“Sometimes there’s even people who don’t like anyone and that’s cool too,” he shrugs again, and that makes Clarke smile even more. What she did to deserve such a smart kid, such a caring little boy. It’s crazy. He is only five and he already understands things she wouldn’t even have thought of when she was that age.

When he finishes his cookie, he stands from the couch and Clarke calls after him, opening her arms. “Come here.”

Aden looks at her for second before he replies, “No.”

It’s not the first time. Unless he asks for it, the boy isn’t one to give hugs.

“Aden Jacob Griffin, you will come here and give your mother a hug,” Clarke scolds, but she has a smile on her face, which Aden mimics rather quickly before he sticks his tongue out to his mom.

“No,” he repeats before he runs off toward his bedroom.

When Lexa arrives about ten minutes later, just off her delivery shift, she finds them in the most intense tickle fight ever, with Aden trying to escape his mother’s grip but always failing. She raises a brow at first but can’t help a smile from appearing on her face when Aden finally escapes Clarke and comes hiding behind her legs. Before she knows it, she becomes Aden’s bodyguard and Clarke attacks them both, the sound of laughter filling the place.

Another day in paradise.

 

Aden is five and Lexa is a stressful mess.

Today is the big day. She has her final presentation for her masters today, and thus far – it’s only eight in the morning – she has only spilled her coffee twice. What a day.

Aden is awake, eating his breakfast in front of his morning cartoons in the living room, and Clarke is still asleep. It happens some mornings, when Clarke is exhausted from work, that Lexa will let her sleep in. She simply drops Aden at school before she goes to college. Today is one of those days, or so Lexa thought.

By ten past eight, Clarke comes into sight through the kitchen door. Lexa watches her as she drops a kiss on a really focused Aden’s head before she heads to the kitchen, only to find Lexa spilling her third cup of coffee.

The brunette curses, and Clarke just smiles softly before she walks to the brunette and hugs her. “Hey.”

Lexa just sighs, arms lose along her body as Clarke surrounds her middle and rests her head on her shoulder. The taller woman closes her eyes for seconds, breathing the blonde in and relaxing at her touch.

“You should be sleeping,” Lexa says as she finally moves, resting her head on Clarke’s and bringing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Clarke replies, even though she yawns on Lexa’s neck. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve spilled three cups of coffee,” the brunette replies with a huff. “I haven’t been this stressed in my entire life.”

Clarke lifts her head from Lexa’s shoulder, and her hands come up to cup Lexa’s face, locking her gaze with hers. “You’ve been working on this for ages, Lexa. You’re ready. You’re gonna nail this, and next year, you’ll be a teacher.”

Lexa smiles a bit and brings her head down to rest her forehead against Clarke’s. “May the gods hear you.”

Clarke smiles softly before she drops a kiss on Lexa’s lips.

It became usual for them now. After Clarke’s little talk with Aden a while back, they sat him down and told them about their relationship. Aden wasn’t really surprised; basically, the five-year-old gave them that one look he probably got from Raven, the one asking if that’s supposed to be a surprise. Of course, they asked if he was bothered by it, and the boy simply stood from the couch he was sitting on, went to his mom, and kissed her cheek before mimicking his action toward Lexa.

“I love you both,” he said with a shrug, “and Lexa makes mommy really happy. Gram says that being happy is the most important, so no, I don’t mind. Can we order pizza for dinner?”

Clarke smiles fondly at the memory, before she shifts her attention back to Lexa.

“How about we drop Aden at school together?” Clarke asks, and Lexa nods.

“I’m gonna pour some coffee in a travel mug and then we can go.”

Clarke smiles before dropping a new kiss on Lexa’s lips. Then she leaves the kitchen for the living room. Aden ate his full breakfast already, but he’s still sitting on the couch, really focused on his Steven Universe episode. He is almost fully dressed, which is good. All he still needs to put on are his shoes and hoodie, and he’ll be good to go. When the episode ends, Clarke turns the TV off, taking Aden out of the trance he usually gets in while watching the show, and the boy stands up from the couch. Clarke lays out his hoodie on the couch for him to take as soon as he’s ready, and the blonde goes to put something other than her PJ pants on before they all head out.

They walk to the school, the three of them, with Aden holding Clarke’s left hand and Lexa holding her right. It actually calms the brunette down. It’s only a ten-minute walk, but it helps Lexa remember why she’s dragging herself through this, especially when they reach the school. It’s buzzing with families dropping their children at the entrance, with all the kids already in the school yard playing, screaming. Lexa smiles to herself; this is it, this is what she wants to do.

Both Lexa and Clarke crouch down in front of the boy, and he drops a fast kiss to their cheeks before he runs off. Ontari has been waiting for him at the entrance for minutes, and he can’t wait to play with her already. Once he is out of sight, probably running after his friend in the school yard, Lexa brings the hand she is still holding to her mouth and kisses the back of it.

“Thank you,” she says, and Clarke just smiles once more. “I should go,” Lexa says as she looks at her watch. “The jury isn’t going to wait for me.”

“Go,” Clarke nods, and Lexa drops a kiss to her lips before their hands untie from each other, and the brunette walks off toward the university. One last time, she turns to look over her shoulder at the blonde who watches her go with a confident smile on her lips. Clarke isn’t even entertaining the thought that she could fail. She can’t. Lexa has been working way too hard, way too much, to fail. She is born for this job and she will make it. Everybody who has ever seen the brunette with a kid agrees – well, everybody but Lexa who can’t help but doubt herself every day. Everything is going to go perfectly fine and Clarke knows it.

When Lexa reaches her examination room, she sucks in a deep breath and decides to look through her notes one last time before they call her. She takes her bag down from her shoulders before she sits on the floor, the backpack on her legs. When she opens it, the first thing that comes into sight isn’t the one that she expects. Like, at all.

Here, in her bag, are stuffed animals. Aden’s stuffed animals.

Lexa takes the first one out, his tiny lion he never sleeps without, the one that represents Clarke in his collection. Under that is his Captain America plush, the one that Monty offered him years ago. It’s damaged from the years of playing and flying around the apartment, but it’s still holding well. It’s one of Aden’s favorite. Lexa puts the two on her legs before she opens her bag wider, afraid to find a new one, but the only other thing she sees that is not supposed to be in there is a piece of yellow paper. Face scrunched up in confusion, the brunette takes it out and holds it up to see what this is about. She recognizes Aden’s scruffy and unstable handwriting instantly, and she reads “Good luck Lexa” written in capital letters.

God. She loves that kid. That kid is the best.

In the end, when the door opens and they call after her, Lexa hasn’t read anything from her notes. All she has done is hold the lion and Captain America against her as she went through pictures on her phone. Pictures of Aden and Clarke; about a thousand that she gathered in the past two and a half years.

When they call for her, all the stress has vanished. She’s ready.

 

Clarke didn’t expect for Lexa to be back early, but around half past ten, the door flies open and closes with an almost bang. The blonde is about to tell her girlfriend to be careful with the door from where she is standing in the kitchen, but before she can stutter anything, Lexa is in front of her and kissing the air out of her lungs.

Honestly, Clarke wasn’t ready. It takes her a few seconds before she replies to the kiss as she lets Lexa push her against the kitchen sink. Soon enough, the blonde is pinned and the brunette has one hand on each side of her face as they kiss deeply and roughly.

After what feels like a lifetime, Lexa breaks away. Clarke is short of breath and feels Lexa lean in and rest her head on her forehead. The blonde sucks in a deep breath, still shocked by the intensity of what just occurred. “What the–“

“Move in with me.”

Lexa is looking at her with her head resting on her forehead. She has both her eyes open and she sees the sudden shift in Clarke’s face. The blonde’s jaw drops as her eyes open wide.

“What?”

“Let’s move in together,” Lexa repeats. “My lease comes to an end soon, and I thought – we could find a flat for us. The three of us. Something bigger. I mean, I basically live here anyway.”

Clarke laughs because, true, Lexa still has her own flat, but more often than not, she is here. A few of her clothes and books are here already, and her bike is resting on the bike rack in the basement of the building. Basically, they live together.

“Something bigger,” the blonde approves as she bends down and pecks the brunette on the lips.

“With a real bathroom,” Lexa says, and Clarke laughs.

Her current bathroom is kind of small – so small that Lexa can sit on the toilet, wash her hands in the sink, and put her foot in the shower all at the same time. She tried, she succeeded.

“Let’s move in together,” Clarke approves again, and she kisses Lexa again, open mouthed kisses as she lets her hands slide under the brunette’s jacket along her sides.

“How much time before you have to go to work?” Lexa asks between kisses.

“More than enough.”

Lexa smiles as her hands leave Clarke’s face. They slide down until they reach the small of the blonde’s back. They rest there for seconds as their tongues dance together. And then they go down again until they reach the back of Clarke’s thighs, and Lexa is lifting her from the ground. The blonde yelps a bit before she closes her legs around Lexa’s waist and lets her carry her through the apartment and to her room.

Soon, it’ll be their room they’re going to, and the simple thought of it is enough to make Clarke into a smiling mess.

 

Aden just turned six and they’re almost done moving in. Almost, because Clarke can’t find her waffle maker.

“Clarke, I’m not going to the basement, it’s a mess of boxes.”

“We need the waffle maker,” the blonde whines, and Lexa sighs.

“I’m taking the bike and buying a new one.”

“Why would you buy a new one while we already have one?”

“Because the basement is a mess and I do not want to go there. It’ll take us less time to buy a new one.”

“It’ll take us less money to find the one we already have.”

The two women glare at each other silently. The first one that wavers will be the one to lose, and Lexa is not going to the basement. When Aden steps in the kitchen, he asks – of course he does, his stomach is directly connected with Clarke’s and if one of them wants something, so does the other one – if he can have a waffle for snack time. Of course.

It’s three in the afternoon and Lexa lost. She knows she did. As soon as Aden asked for waffle, she was a lost cause. Clarke knows too, as a devilish grin takes up her facial features. The brunette groans.

“If I still haven’t found it in thirty minutes, I’m buying a new one,” the woman stats with a heavy sigh and Clarke jumps excitedly before she walks toward her girlfriend and drops a kiss on her lips.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Gross,” Aden mutters as he makes a face before he exits the kitchen.

They both glance at him before shaking their heads with bemused smiles.

“If I’m not back in forty, assume I’m dead.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You love it,” Lexa shrugs before she exits the kitchen.

Soon enough, she is in the basement and, not that she wants to repeat herself or anything, but this is a mess. A huge mess of boxes and things she’s never seen before.

And dust. A lot of dust.

Where is she even supposed to start looking to find that waffle maker? She doesn’t know. Honestly, she’s one second away from simply sitting here for thirty minutes and then claiming she couldn’t find it so that she can just go buy a new one. With her phone as an extra light – the basement’s lightbulb isn’t the brightest – the brunette looks around at least, just a bit, to see if any box catches her eye, but none of them do. All she notices is that, in the back of the tiny room, the paper protection on one of Clarke canvases got torn in half. Well this is not good. She’s never seen any of Clarke’s paintings before, only her doodles in her notebook and on napkins from work, but she knows that Clarke will not be pleased if it gets dusty, or worse, damaged.

It takes some effort and a lot of walking over boxes full of useless stuff and Aden’s baby clothes, but after a full five minutes of intense focus so that she doesn’t trip, Lexa manages to reach the paintings. There are a few canvases here, all covered in brown paper. The one that caught her attention, the ripped one, mostly shows green paint from what Lexa can see. Honestly, she’s curious. Clarke’s doodles are great, not to say amazing, and Lexa still wonders what the blonde is doing working in a coffee shop – that is to say, Clarke’s self-confidence is below zero and that didn’t help her trying to make it in art. And with Aden, what she needed was a secure source of income. Art wasn’t one. That didn’t stop the blonde from working on her art; she has a studio at her mom's, which she uses each time she goes there, and she draws whenever she can.

Lexa looks through the opening in the paper, lighting it with her phone, and after a few seconds of trying to figure it out, she all but decides to rip the entirety of the paper open. It doesn’t take long before the painting is on full display and Lexa has to take a step back to look at it properly.

For seconds, it takes her breath away.

Green and dark brown are representing a forest in the background, and in the front, a double-headed deer is looking right at the brunette. It’s kind of weird, like, why the hell does that deer have two heads, but the way it looks, the detail in its eyes and the way the forest surrounds it is astonishing.

Clarke is talented as fuck and shouldn’t be working in a coffee shop.

After what is like a full minute of staring at the painting under the dim light of the basement, Lexa switches her phone into photo mode and snaps a rather shitty picture of the painting. She hopes it’ll be clear enough as she sends it to Anya. Lexa then sits on a box, still looking at the painting, at the details in the forest, at the way she can clearly see each leaf on the trees and at the way the four eyes of the deer are full of a worry and fear she can’t quite understand.

When Anya still hasn’t replied after five minutes of waiting, Lexa simply dials her number and brings her phone to her ear. It takes a few seconds before her sister’s ever-so-joyful voice rings through her ear, with a “it better be fucking worth it, Lexa, I was getting somewhere here.” It doesn’t take long for the brunette to make out Raven’s voice in the background, as her sister’s girlfriend groans a “coitus interruptus” that almost makes Lexa chuckle.

“I need you to check your text, I sent you a picture.”

“And it couldn’t fucking wait?”

“No. Hurry up.”

Anya groans before she announces that she’s putting her phone on speaker. It takes some seconds before the woman finally opens her message conversation with Lexa.

“If it’s one of Aden’s drawing again I will –” Anya starts, but she suddenly goes quiet.

Lexa can picture her right now, looking at her phone through every angle, turning it in her hands to see every detail of the picture.

“Okay first off,” Anya starts again after a few minutes, “we need to get you a better phone. That picture sucks. Secondly, where the fuck did you find this and who do I have to kill to get it in my gallery?”

“It’s one of Clarke’s.”

“I’m fucking sorry? Your girlfriend can paint and you never told me? Clarke can paint and you never told me?”

Lexa knows the second question is addressed to Raven and she can almost see the brunette shrugging it off.

“I can bring it upstairs for you to see it, but I have a condition.”

“What’s your price?”

“Be at my place in twenty with a waffle maker.”

It takes fifteen minutes for Lexa to bring the painting back upstairs. Who would have thought climbing stairs with an oversized canvas in hand would be that hard. When she opens the door of the apartment, Clarke almost jumps happily, expecting her girlfriend to have found the waffle maker.

“This... is not my waffle maker.”

“Sorry. I didn't find it, but Anya is bringing a new one.”

“So you brought this up instead?”

“I should have probably asked before but I sent a picture to Anya, but she wants to see it.”

Clarke makes a face, because she doesn't understand why the fuck Anya wants to see the painting.

“You never really talked with Anya, did you?”

“Hmmm not really. I mean, we usually talk about you and Aden more than each other.”

Lexa is about to talk again when a knock on the door is heard and the door opens wide. Anya and Raven both show up at the door and come right in without being invited, closing the door behind themselves. Aden shows up from the living room and immediately runs up to Raven, who has to balance her equilibrium when the boy jumps at her. Anya doesn't even look in her direction before she puts her hands behind her back to keep her steady as the brunette lifts the boy up from the ground.

“Here's your waffle maker,” Anya states as she hands a brand-new box to Lexa. “Now let me look at this.”

Lexa takes the box and Anya crouches down in front of the painting. Clarke is a little bit anxious, to say the least, because she’s never seen Anya this serious in her entire life, and this is one of her paintings she's scrutinizing with her hazel eyes. She's quiet for minutes, and the more it goes, the more Clarke feels anxious. Ever so quietly, Anya reaches out for the painting, touches the paint, above the two-headed deer, the leaves and the trees, and she hums at the touch.

“How much time did it take?”

Clarke thinks for a second. “A year and a half. I was never satisfied with the colors.”

“I must say, I'm impressed,” Anya muses as she stands from her spot on the floor and faces Clarke directly.

“Can I snap a picture of it to show my boss? I work at Polaris Gallery, and I think he'll want it for our next exhibit. The theme is 'green'.”

“I – What?” is all Clarke can say as Lexa moves to the kitchen to start the preparation of the waffles along with Raven and Aden, giving some privacy to the two others.

“This is going to take a while,” Raven says. “She won't stop until she has it fair and square, signed on papers and all.”

Lexa nods, taking Aden from Raven's arms and sitting him on the table.

“Wanna help fix the waffles?” The boy nods with a happy grin.

 

Aden is eight and craving ice-cream.

The nearby 24/7 shop doesn't sell any, and even if it did, it is not the one he craves. He wants the one from the parlor, a ten-minute drive from home. Clarke told him that he could get it if he wanted to, only if he managed to convince Lexa to drive him there because Clarke doesn't have her driver’s license.

And well, Lexa is in her pajamas already, and not really in the mood to put her shoes back on and drive for some ice-cream that might give him a belly ache. That's when it happens. They're arguing in the living room, Aden pointing out the fact that the ice-cream parlor closes soon, and Lexa telling him that he can get some another day. Which won't do, because Aden is a Griffin, and what a Griffin wants, a Griffin gets.

“But moooooooom,” he whines and Lexa lifts a brow at him.

The brunette points out to the living room, to show him where Clarke is and Aden frowns a bit.

“Not that mom,” he says. “That mom,” he adds as he points a finger at her.

It's Lexa's turn to frown and Aden sighs.

“You're mom too,” he says as an explanation. “Mom said I should ask before calling you that but it kind of slipped out. I still want ice-cream, though.”

Lexa stays quiet for a minute or so, looking at the blond boy facing her. He's so much taller than he was the first time she saw him, so much bigger. He is quieter than what he used to be, but he knows how to stand up for himself. His favorite super hero is still and will probably always be Captain America, and he likes Harry Potter as much as his mom does. Moms.

It hits Lexa hard and she honestly has to do everything in her power not to cry.

She closes her eyes for a few seconds and rubs her forehead to regain some composure, but she’s lost. She knows she has.

“Go put your shoes on,” she sighs as she re-opens her eyes and Aden's face lights up almost immediately. He jumps at Lexa and hugs her quickly before running to the door and grabbing his shoes.

The Griffins are absolutely going to be the death of her.

 

Aden is twelve and Ontari, as far as he remembers, has always been his best friend.

From childcare to middle school, she has always been around, sleeping over more often than not, tagging along to Octavia's Tae Kwon Do classes when they were four and earning her red belt just at the same time as him, about six months ago.

Honestly, both Clarke and Lexa know at this point that if Aden ever needs to bury a body, he would call Ontari over anyone else, and the same goes for the girl. After all, the Griffin-Woods household still remembers the nasty fight the two best friends got into about a year ago when some guy – “jackass Dax” Ontari had muttered as the three kids where facing the school's principal along with their parents and/or guardian – insulted Aden.

Turns out, Dax had insulted both Clarke and Lexa, using “the D word” as Aden calls it, and Aden threw the first punch out of instinct almost immediately after he heard the word. The second punch was thrown by Dax square into Aden's face, and before anyone could do anything, Ontari threw the third one right into Dax's stomach, and the fouth one right into his face, before grabbing him by the collar of his jacket – he was taller than her by inches, but she made him lower his face down to her level before snarling that if he were to ever look at Aden the wrong way again, she would slit his throat.

It shouldn't have made as much noise as it did. It shouldn't have.

Aden was pretty much a nobody at school. Nobody beside Dax even cared about him having two moms; sure, a few teachers like Mr. Jaha and Mr. Kane regarded him with fondness for being Clarke's son, as they had her in their early years of teaching, but that was pretty much it.

Ontari, on the other hand, was the shit. The only freshman who made it as a regular on the football team, and on her first tryout. She was almost popular – almost because she had a shitty personality and didn't care for parties and sociability.

No one really knew about them being long-time friends because they never had time to hang out together at school. Whenever Aden had free time after school, Ontari had football practice, and whenever the girl had free time at lunch, Aden had an extra class. Since the beginning of the year, the two teenagers had only managed to squeeze in a few lunches together in the art studio Aden would stay in every Friday, and that was pretty much it.

So of course no one, absolutely no one save for some of Aden's art studio mates, knew that Ontari 'the-next-fucking-quaterback-imma-tell-you' Queen was the best friend of Aden 'why-the-fuck-are-you-so-tiny' Griffin.

Needless to say, the two were seen as an item after the fight, and no one dared come close to Aden ever again. Ontari's aura kind of worked as a shield around the small boy, and nobody was crazy enough, not even Dax, to come bother him again.

In their second year of middle school though, something went to shit.

Aden doesn't really know what it is, although he has a feeling that Ontari's mother being back in the girl's household has something to do with it. He’s never met the woman, but Ontari told him enough about her all throughout their years of friendship for him to know that it is not exactly a positive thing.

Sure, he knows that all Ontari has ever asked for was her mother's recognition. The girl is a star on the football court, going to Nationals for the second time this year after getting silver the year before, and with pretty good grades. Sure, she's not valedictorian, but she holds her own pretty well for someone who has Titus in math – a B- with him is a A+ with anybody else, anyone with common sense can tell – but it never seemed to be enough for her mother to see her, for her mother to remember her birthday, or for her mother to come home for more than a week every six months.

Now, however, things are different. Out of the blue, her mother is home and home she is staying. Aden hasn't heard from his friend, hasn't seen her in the school's hallways nor in the art studio on Friday – for two weeks now. He's starting to worry. So of course, when he finally sees her in the hallway in front of her locker as she collects her books for her next class, he walks over her and asks her if she's okay.

That's when shit really hits the fan.

Aden can tell that something is wrong from the way she talks and guards herself. Her body language is closed off and she makes sure to turn away from him, not letting any kind of feelings slip through her.

Words are exchanged, bad ones, and it ends poorly, with Aden telling her to go fuck herself before he storms away to his own locker and retrieves what he needs for his next classes.

When he gets home that day, it only takes four minutes for Clarke to realize that something is wrong with her son.

The blond boy is huffing in the kitchen, not even getting a snack as he usually does when he gets back from school. He's just pacing and fuming and so pissed.

“Is everything okay?” Clarke asks as she walks into the kitchen and opens the top counter above to stove, grabbing some of Aden favorite snacks and placing them on the kitchen counter.

“No,” Aden all but groans, and he keeps pacing.

Clarke hums as she opens the fridge and gets the bottle of milk out before closing it again. She grabs a glass and pours some into it before setting it on the counter next to the snacks.

“What's wrong?” she demands as she puts the milk back in the fridge.

“You know the only two things I can't forgive, right?” the blond boy asks his mom, and she nods almost immediately.

“When there's no Nutella for breakfast and when someone uses the D slur to talk about your Ma and I.”

Her son nods in reply before he grumbles something and Clarke has to raise a brow at him for him to repeat what he just said.

“Ontari,” he almost snarls and Clarke has never seen her boy so hangry before. “Ontari used it!”

Clarke's face opens in full surprise and she's glad she's not holding anything because she would have probably dropped it.

Ontari has been Aden's best friend for over ten years now, and she never ever made any kind of comment about Aden's family situation, about his parents being two women. Hell, she even brought them presents more than once for Mother's Day, as she had known both Clarke and Lexa for a while now and started considering them as her own family, or so Clarke thought. It honestly doesn't sound like the girl she knows.

“Did anything happen?” the blonde woman asks, and Aden shakes his head.

“I don't know, it doesn't make any fucking sense!”

Clarke can forgive him for his language at this moment and doesn't chastise him. She stays quiet and waits for her boy to keep going.

“I mean, seriously, one second everything is good, and then I get a text saying that her mom is back for good and then, what? Nothing, for two weeks? And when I confront her about it, she blows me off and tells me she doesn't wanna be friend with- with-”

Clarke is fast to understand the rest of his sentence and instead of letting him stew in his hanger, she walks over to him and drapes her arm around his shoulders, offering a hug that he almost immediately gives back. He's clutching at her top, knuckles turning white, and Clarke soothes him by drawing circles on his back. She can hear his heavy breathing and she doesn't doubt for a second that the wetness she feels on her neck is due to the tears rolling down his cheeks.

As previously stated, Ontari has been Aden's best friend for the past ten years, and Clarke has no doubt that what just happened today broke her son's heart.

“I just – I don't get it,” he says after a while, sniffling in his mother's neck. “Something felt so wrong about her saying it, but I...”

Clarke makes him lift his head from the crook of her neck and looks at his face, bringing her thumbs to his cheeks to erase the few tears that are left.

“I can't forgive her, mom. I don't care what the hell happened to her, I can't. She knows I don't joke with the word.”

“I know, love. No one is asking you to forgive her,” she says as she slowly caresses his cheek.

“But something's wrong,” he says as he untangles himself from his mother's embrace to go to the counter and get his glass of milk. “Ontari is by far one of the least homophobic people I know. It doesn't make sense.”

“You said something about her mom being back, right?”

Aden nods and Clarke hums as she thinks about it for a few seconds.

“If her mom is still the bitch she told us about, I wouldn't be surprised if it has something to do with her, what do you say?”

The boy thinks about it as well for a few seconds before he sighs heavily. “Whatever it is, I can't forgive her.”

Clarke nods her understanding – Aden is pretty stubborn, and she knows he's not going to back down from it – before she walks up to him again and drops a kiss on his forehead. “Eat something before starting your homework, okay?”

 

Aden is fourteen and almost rushing into his home to talk to his mom before Lexa gets back.

“Mom!” he calls out as soon as the door closes behind him, and Clarke's raspy voice answers him from the kitchen almost immediately.

“Shouldn't you be in class, young man?” She points her spatula at him, clearly interrupted in the middle of some serious cake baking.

“Not important. I know what I want to give Ma for her birthday.”

“Aden, Lexa's birthday was, like, two weeks ago,” Clarke points out with a raised brow and Aden nods. He knows, he was there, thank you very much.

“For the next one,” he explains.

“And it couldn't wait until the end of your, what, chemistry class?”

“I'm basically Monty Green's nephew, I'm pretty sure I know everything there is to know.”

Clarke thinks of calling bullshit, but she knows she can't. The kid has her there. She can only blame herself for having surrounded her son with the smartest people on earth from early on.

“Alright, tell me about it then.”

 

Aden is fifteen and it's finally Lexa's birthday.

Everybody is here in their apartment, Octavia and Lincoln chatting with Raven and Anya on the couch, Monty up against Miller’s chest as he listens to Jasper talking about his on-going crush on a girl from work, Bellamy bothering Clarke in the kitchen as she gets the cake ready. Everybody is happy, even Lexa, herself in the living room next to Aden as she huffs because she got denied the access to the kitchen.

Clarke lights the candles on the cake before calling out for everyone to gather around the table and they all start to sing a very off-key rendition of “Happy birthday.” It’s a mess, if Clarke is being honest, but a mess that makes Lexa smile shyly every year, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

“Make a wish!” Aden calls right before Lexa blows on her candles, and Lexa thinks about it before she blows hard, putting out every candle in one go.

“What did you wish for?” Clarke asks as she drops a kiss on her head, and the brunette shrugs.

“Nothing. I already have all I need.”

The blonde smiles at her partner of twelve years now before she kisses her, and Aden groans from his spot, muttering a “gross” as he looks away from his moms kissing.

“Alright,” Clarke laughs, “present time.”

Way too soon for Lexa to be prepared, the table she's sitting in front of is a mess of wrapped boxes and envelops from everyone, and Octavia insists for hers to be the first one she opens. Lexa does as she is told, unwrapping the box and not paying attention to Clarke, who walks away from her up to Anya and whispers something in her ear. The taller woman nods at her and exits the living room for a few minutes, then comes back with her smartphone in hand.

Anya is fast to switch it to camera mode and she starts filming without her sister noticing anything.

Lexa goes from one present to another: a new crankset for her bike (Octavia), a few very old Korean poetry books (Monty, from his grandmother's), a full encyclopedia of Greek mythology (Bellamy), and so on. It goes for a solid fifteen minutes because Anya and Raven had a lot of fun wrapping their gifts (“How to Be a Mother for Dummies”) into a big box full of confetti and nothing else.

Lexa raises a brow at them both. “In case you guys haven't noticed, I am already a mother.”

“Some theory can never hurt,” Raven explains before Aden walks over to Lexa and hands her an envelope with nothing but her name written on it.

“If it's a parachute jump again, I will start to believe you want to kill me.”

Aden smiles, fond memories of last year's present in mind, before he shakes his head.

“It's better,” he promises and nudges her to open the envelope with a hand motion.

Anya suddenly gets really serious about filming her sister, and she stands straighter, holding her phone with both hands. The room fills with silence and Lexa raises a brow at all of them before she carefully opens the envelope.

“Why are you offering me your-” she starts when she gets Aden ID card out of the envelope, but she stops midtrack, noticing something that wasn't there before.

She has seen this card numerous times, she basically knows it by heart now, so it doesn't really take more than five seconds for her to realizes how long his name is. Carefully, Lexa drags her eyes to the top of the card, on the right of his picture, right under his identification number, and she reads it. Once, twice, three times in her head. It doesn't really hit her until the sixth time she reads it and her mouth suddenly goes ajar.

Lexa lifts her eyes to the boy standing next to Clarke, in front of her, a table apart. She closes her mouth and opens it again to say something, but the words die in her throat on the first try. She closes her mouth again and looks at the card once more, before taking a deep breath to regain her composure and looking over at Aden.

“Aden Jacob Griffin-Woods...?” she gets out with a shaky voice, “as in, me Woods?”

Aden stops himself from making a sassy comment and nods, smiling warmly. “You kind of spent the past twelve years raising me along with mom here,” he says, throwing a hand in Clarke's general direction. “It felt weird not having your name already.”

Aden shrugs awkwardly under his Ma's gaze, but before anyone can add anything else, Lexa is on her feet and hugging Aden with everything she has, hiding the tears falling down her cheeks in the boy's shoulder. Lexa's hand blindly reaches for Clarke and the blonde joins in the hug, dropping a kiss on Lexa's shoulder and ruffling her son's hair along the way.

And then, everything gets messy, and someone is hollering at them before everybody else follows, and there's clapping and screaming and Clarke can only make out Jasper's voice suddenly shouting “GROUP HUG” before the Griffin-Woods family gets swallowed into a massive group hug that makes them all fall on the ground, laughing and crying messes.

 

Aden is sixteen and high school is kicking his ass.

Well, not exactly.

The young man handles all his classes like a champ, always working ahead on his projects and homework, 3.7 GPA and all. But something's still kicking his ass, namely Dax, who happens to be in the same class as him and never forgot about their middle school incident. And just like anybody else, Dax heard about Ontari and Aden's fight and doesn't fear the consequences anymore.

It became a habit at the beginning of the year. Dax would drag Aden behind the bleacher and make his life a living hell for a solid ten minutes, and it's not that Aden couldn't take him – he recently got his black belt and could definitely kick Dax's ass – but he promised his moms not to get involved in a fight ever again at school and he needs a perfect record if he ever wants to get an art scholarship.

So here he is, face into the ground as Dax throws the last punch of the day with his foot, directly onto Aden's ribs. The blond boy doesn't give in to the pain and doesn't make a sound, only sighing lightly once Dax is gone and turning to lay on his back.

It takes a few minutes for him to catch his breath, but he's used to it now. He knows how to handle himself, how to stay calm whenever Dax hits, how to protect his face. How to not look suspicious when he gets back to class and home later on. Honestly, at this point, he could score a scholarship in acting instead of art and wouldn't even be surprised.

Today, however, Dax made a mistake. On this sunny Wednesday afternoon, he didn't think twice before acting and he left without noticing that Wednesday is training day for the football team.

It's Tris, one of Ontari's fellow members on the team that makes the brunette realizes what is happening. At first, when Ontari sees Dax walking onto the court, freshly out of the bleachers, she doesn't really think much of it. But, five minutes later, when Aden walks out of the bleachers, limping his way off the court in the direction of the school's building, she freezes.

Aden. Dax. Limping.

Aden.

“What the hell?” Tris asks and Ontari's hands ball into fists, knuckles turning white.

When the brunette huffs, Tris turns her head toward her, raising a brow. “You okay there, Cap?”

“Go make sure the kid is fine,” Ontari orders more than asks, and Tris knows better than to argue, so she jogs toward the limping boy and stops only after passing him.

“Hey,” she stops him, “you okay?”

“Ecstatic,” Aden replies without missing a beat before he looks up at the girl, noticing the jersey and the sweat running down her forehead.

“Shouldn't you be training?”

“Sassy I see. What are you, a freshman? What about respecting your elders?” She has an easy smile and Aden can’t help but smirk back.

“I'm a junior, thank you very much.”

Tris raises a brow at him, obviously not taking his word for it. “Why the fuck are you so tiny then?”

Aden shakes his head, used to it, and starts walking toward the building again, still limping, and Tris walks alongside him.

“Did Dax bully you?” the girl asks, straight to the point, and Aden doesn't even stop walking, just shrugs.

“I've heard about the football team captain's reputation. Maybe you should get back on the field.”

“She ordered me to make sure you were fine. Are you fine?”

“I'm good, thank you, uh...”

“Tris. And you're…?”

“Aden.”

“Well Aden, since I believe you won't let me walk you to the nurse’s office, please try to avoid the bleachers.”

“I'll try my best,” he nods, and as Tris turns back to jog off to the field, he raises his voice toward her. “And tell your captain I don't need her help!”

 

The day after, the news spreads like wildfire. Dax Mulligan, resident asshole at Arkadia High, got himself into a fight too big for him to handle and gained a stay at the hospital. Aden doesn't pry much, doesn't ask any questions, and almost feels bad for being relieved that he won't have to deal with him for a few days.

Currently, he’s in the library, reading a book for his history project, not paying any mind to his surroundings, up until Tris takes the chair opposite his and sits in front of him. She's quiet at first, opening her bag and grabbing her English textbook to work on her homework, but it doesn't last very long.

“You've heard, right?” she asks after ten minutes of studying.

“What?” Aden asks carefully, moving on his seat to get a little more comfortable, still sore from the day before.

“Dax literally got his ass handed to him in a fight after school. They say he might never recover fully from his broken arm.”

“Oh,” is all Aden says before he falls quiet, and Tris sighs.

“Listen, I don't know shit, alright. I don't know shit except for what Ontari says when she's drunk at parties.” Aden looks at her and she keeps going, visibly annoyed by all this. “And while Ontari sucks at sociability, I’ve come to understand that, at some point in her life, she had a best friend and that she screwed it up for some obscure reason. But she swore, drunkenness and all, she swore to me that if anyone were to touch just one hair on this whoever-he-is guy's head, she would destroy them.

“While she never said that guy's name in her drunken rant, I remember her saying how tiny he is for his age and how awesome his moms are.”

She goes quiet for a second, watching Aden with careful eyes. The boy frowns before rubbing his hand against his face, sighting heavily.

“What do you want me to say? Ontari and I go way back, but as she said, she screwed up.”

“Just a head’s up, she was really pissed when she saw you limp your way out of the bleachers.”

“Wait, you think-”

“You don't?” Tris asks, and Aden sighs again.

“For fuck's sake.”

 

Dax comes back after a week out, and it takes only ten minutes for Aden to know that he is back.

While Aden had been thinking about it, about if Ontari had done it, he had come to the simple explanation that this was ridiculous and, honestly, didn't make much sense. They haven't talked to each other for years, don't even share a class in high school, and while, sure, she may have said some stuff while drunk, there’s no way she'd get herself in that much trouble just for this.

Or so he thought.

On Thursday morning when he walks to his locker to stuff some of his books inside before his first period, the regular crowd of students suddenly separates away from him, and Dax Mulligan appears out of nowhere, yelling out a “Griffin!” that almost startles the boy.

Almost. “It's Griffin-Woods,” he corrects the taller, heavier boy walking toward him at a fast pace.

Aden has enough time to look him over; he’s in a bad state. Broken arm and broken nose, black eyes and some stitches above his left eye. He seems to be limping a bit as he walks toward the blond boy as well, but before Aden can say or do anything, Dax's good hand grabs him by the collar of his jacket and throws him into the lockers.

“This is all your fault!” Dax accuses, and some people launch themselves at him to stop whatever his next move is.

 

Aden's breath catches, and he coughs at the sudden pain in his back. He sure as hell didn't expect for Mulligan to attack him with so many people as witnesses.

And then the atmosphere turns cold. Like really, really cold, and everybody freezes. Once again, the crowd of students opens itself, and this time, Ontari appears, walking at a measured pace toward the scene.

She looks merderous.

Draped in her letterman jacket, a tad bit too large for her, and with her hair braided on the back of her head like his Ma taught her to do years ago, she looks like some fierce commander ready to descend into battle.

“Mulligan,” she calls out, voice sharp as ice, and the tall boy stops moving, stops trying to untangle himself from the people who jumped at him. He freezes, literally, and Aden can see fear in the boy's brown eyes.

Ontari gestures for the people holding him to let go, and they all move at once, freeing Mulligan from their hold and moving to the side of the scene while Ontari walks up to him, calmly putting herself between Aden and Dax.

“Did you really think this through, Mulligan?”

He holds her gaze for seconds, frozen, before his eyes finally drop to the ground, and he lets out a shaky breath.

Aden doesn't really pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Still on the ground, he is at the perfect height to see Ontari's hands, and more importantly her knuckles. Bruised knuckles, recovering well, but still pink from the new skin growing.

She did it. He has no doubt about it anymore. She's the one who made Mulligan the poor bruised thing he is now.

“Get out of his hair or I will have more than yours,” he hears Ontari threaten, and before he can say anything of his own, Dax leaves, pushing people out of his way to get out of there as soon as he can.

Ontari turns her attention to the crowd of people, bigger than the moment she arrived, and gives them all a pointed look. “Shouldn't you all be in class?”

That's all it takes for everyone to dissipate and go on with their days as if nothing happened. The brunette then turns around, looking at the ground over the blond boy. Her eyes soften and she crouches down, facing him. “Can you stand?”

“I don't need your help,” Aden groans as he helps himself up with the lockers behind him.

Ontari throws her hands up in surrender. Aden is stubborn like that, and she is certainly not one to pick a fight with him.

“Tris,” she calls out as she stands up from her spot, and out of thin air, Tris materializes next to her.

If they were into a warzone, Tris would probably be Ontari's general. Both juniors, both on the football team, both draped into their letterman jackets and hair braided out of their faces. Tris is shorter than Ontari with lines softer than the brunette’s, eyes clearer. Next to Ontari, she looks ridiculously small and soft.

“Walk him to class,” is all she says to the shorter girl before she turns on her heel and leaves.

“What the fuck,” Aden groans once she is out of sight, and Tris just shrugs.

“Let's go.”

 

When he tells his moms about it – not about the entire bullying thing from the start, because it's a bit too much - about how Ontari stood up for him earlier that day, Clarke and Lexa share a look and invite Aden to maybe, they don't know, talk to her or something. The boy shakes a no because he won't talk to her unless she apologizes and that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

He also talks about Tris, and while he doesn't say much about her, just bits and bobs of what happened in the past weeks or so, his moms share a look again, both smiling fondly when they look back at him, but he doesn't really pay it any mind and just keeps talking happily.

 

Aden is fifteen and has a 4.0 GPA when Tris comes to him at the library.

He's working on a biology paper he has to turn in a few days from now when she sits in front of him and sighs heavily. The two became close at some point, exchanging numbers over lunch two weeks ago and talking pretty much all the time from then on.

“What's up?” Aden asks without even looking away from his book.

“I scored a C- in English.”

Aden raises his eyes from his book and studies the girl sitting in front of him.

“You're the perfect stereotype of a jock, you know that?”

“I won't take it as an insult and just remember that you called me perfect.”

Aden smirks a bit at that, cheek going slightly red at the easy smile Tris sends his way.

“Plus, I can’t be that much of a jock if I'm hanging out with the biggest nerd this school has ever had.”

“If that’s your way of flirting with me, just know you're on the wrong road,” Aden jokes, and Tris' face suddenly gets serious. She cocks her brow at him and sighs again.

“I've been flirting with you for the past three weeks, and you only now realize it when I call you a nerd? I should have started with that.”

“I -” Aden laughs, but he stops dead in his track when he understands what Tris just said. “You what?”

“You're pretty slow, you know that?” Tris shakes her head with a grin before she stands from her chair, ruffling Aden's hair when she walks past him. “Ball's in your court now,” she whispers as she leaves the table for good and walks out of the library.

They go on their first date two days later and share their first kiss on Tris' doorstep, like the perfect teen comedy they promised each other they wouldn't be. When Aden gets home, happy smiles and still rosy cheeks, his moms don't even bother to ask how the date went and propose pizza for dinner.

 

Aden is sixteen and everything couldn't be better in his life even if he tried.

He just got a new smartphone for his birthday, along with some spray-paints he's already using in the studio at his grandmother's. His clothes are ruined and his face is covered in blue smudges when his phone rings. He picks it up the best he can, using his elbow on the tactile screen instead of his covered-in-paint hand before bringing the phone to his ear. Tris starts talking before he can even get a “hello” out.

“Alright, I'm probably gonna get my ass kicked once she learns I did this but – listen up: Ontari just got kicked out of her house by her psycho bitch mom and her brother is away and no one is standing up for her. She refuses my help and I'm pretty sure she's out there sleeping on some bench or something. And it's getting late and it's freaking cold because it's winter and I know you guys haven't talk in years but-”

Aden doesn't reply but he keeps listening to whatever Tris is saying as he opens the door of the studio and runs down the stairs, right into his moms and his grandmother having a conversation over cups of coffees in the living room.

“I'll be right back”, he yells as he exits the house without any kind of explanation.

The three women in the living room look at the opened door the boy left behind him for a few seconds before Lexa looks back at Clarke.

“What the fuck?”

 

Aden runs down town with his worn off sneackers and covered in paint clothes, Tris still on the phone as he asks for some more information about the situation. At this point, he'll take anything, really.

“I don't know, babe, really. All I know is that she came out as bisexual to the team about two days ago and told me later that she was about to tell her mom.”

“This fucking idiot!” Aden shouts as he speeds up down the street and take a sharp turn on the left to enter a new street. Everything suddenly seems to add up in the blond boy's brain, about what happened back in middle school. Her mom. Her freaking mom.

“Babe?” Tris asks, still on the line.

“Ontari's a fucking idiot! She blew me off four years ago when her mom stopped going abroad for work because her mom is a fucking homophobic bitch!”

Aden takes another sharp turn, on his right, and lets himself be swallowed in a small deserted street. He runs straight ahead, groaning along the way as he exits the small street for a bigger one, taking a right at the intersection.

“Wait, are you running?” Tris asks suddenly. “I'm supposed to be the sporty one of the relationship.”

“Sorry, but I sure as hell can run. I'm a Tae Kwon Do black belt and I'm going to kick Ontari's ass.”

“Excuse my French but what the fuck, dude?”

“Did you just dude me?”

“We're dating, I can dude you all I want. So, Tae Kwon Do, black belt?”

“Remember all the time I told you I was at my aunt’s? She owns a dojo with her boyfriend. I started when I was four.”

“I'm shook.”

“You spend too much time on Tumblr.”

“You love me.”

“True.” Aden sighs with a shake of the head. “I got there, I'll text you.”

“What, where?”

“Wait for my text!”

Aden hangs up his phone and pockets it as he looks at the big gate facing him. Of course it's closed. He’s not really surprised, given how slowly the sun is setting in the sky. But somehow, he knows. He knows Ontari's here from some gut feeling that’s never betrayed him before. For some reason, he knows she's here. Behind the gate is a public park he and Ontari used to go back in time, when Roan would be too busy with class to pick up Ontari right at the end of school, or on weekends when the girl would stay over. It's close to school and has a few benches, along with trees to stay under when rain pours.

With a quick look over, Aden notices no one's around him, and so he jumps at the gate and makes a fast work of climbing it, letting himself fall to the ground on the other side as soon as he reaches the top.

As weird as it seems, it doesn't really take long for him to find her. Sure, the park is closed and no one else is around, so it's not really hard to spot anyone, but Ontari made good work of hiding herself somehow.

Still, Aden finds her after five minutes of walking down the park. She's laying down on a bench, a duffel bag as a pillow, and she's looking at the tree hanging over her, her phone in hand, probably waiting for a phone call from her brother.

Without much thinking, Aden walks to the bench, crossing his arms over his chest as soon as he gets in front of it, waiting for Ontari to notice him. It only takes a few seconds before the brunette gives him a once over then sighs heavily and pockets her phone.

“You look like your mom,” she comments dryly, and he raises a brow but doesn't say a word.

Ontari stays quiet as well. For a minute or so, she keeps looking at the tree and tries to ignore Aden's existence right next to her. It's quite hard to do so when the boy has his pissed off critical eyes on her, and she sighs again.

“I'm sorry for using the D word on your moms back then. I literally have no excuses. I knew my mom was a bitch already, but I just wanted to please her, I guess.”

“Alright,” Aden says then, uncrossing his arms and eyes softening, “get off your ass, we're leaving.”

“I'm not leaving this bench.”

“Don't make me call my moms.”

Of all the people Ontari has ever met in her entire life, her football coach included, Clarke and Lexa are by far the most unsettling, scary duo she has ever met, and also the only two people she has ever really considered as parents. Sure, Roan did a decent job at raising her, and she will always be thankful for him, for all the time he spent with her instead of going out with his friends when he was a teenager, but Clarke and Lexa are parents. Good, scary parents that never hesitated to put her back in her place when she needed it. And she honestly doesn't need those two to show up unannounced and drag her sorry ass back to their home. She can do that on her own, thank you very much.

“I'm so gonna kick Tris' ass at practice on Monday,” she grumbles but stands nonetheless.

“Let her be.”

“I knew you two dating would be trouble.”

“Yeah well, thanks to her, you're not sleeping in the cold tonight or ever, so stop complaining.”

They start walking next to each other as Aden takes his phone again and dials his mom's number before bringing it to his ear.

“Aden?” Clarke picks up immediately, voice worried.

“Hey mom, sorry for bursting out.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Complicated, but yeah, good. Can you ask granny if she can cook for five?”

“Is Tris coming?”

“Ontari is, actually.”

“What?”

“We'll explain everything once we get back, okay?”

“Okay, alright. So dinner for five?”

“Yes, please.”

“Gotcha.”

“See you in a bit.”

 

They make it back to Abby's place at a slow pace, sharing bits and bobs about their life, what they missed over the past years they didn't talk. It's easy, Aden realizes, sharing again with Ontari. Even after four years, they're still the same toddlers that used to wait for each other at school or race each other at childcare. After a solid ten minutes of football talks, Aden finally brings up the Dax question he's been dying to ask for the past months, and Ontari just sighs, waving the hand that's not holding her duffle bag.

“Honestly, he had it coming.”

“You know he might never get the use of his arm back, right?”

“Like I care. He deserved it. I know that one time behind the bleachers wasn't the only one.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I'm the captain of the football team, I have ears and eyes everywhere.”

They finally reach Aden's grandmother's house and the boy stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the door, face serious.

“They know about how you defended me when he got back from the hospital, but not for all that happened before so, not a word.”

“Got it, chief.” Ontari mock salutes, and Aden smiles.

“Fuck you.”

 

Aden is sixteen and his moms make the decision before he can even ask.

After they explained the entire situation to them at lunch at his grandmother's a week earlier, the two women talked a bit together, and their choice was made before the sun even set.

Ontari is moving in.

They changed the playroom into a bedroom, using furniture they found here and there.

But of course, when they finally bring up the idea to Ontari, the girl shakes a sharp no and refuses to even acknowledge the idea. She doesn't want to be a bother to the Griffin-Woods household. She's just going to find some student job, put money aside, and find an apartment or go live in a shelter or something. At this point, she's even ready to ask for shelter in a church. She just wants to get out of their hair. They've been bothered enough by her presence for the past week.

Aden shares a look with his moms, and Clarke sighs heavily.

“Alright, listen up, you,” she says as she looks at the young brunette facing her, “you basically grew up in our house. You and Aden not talking for a few years doesn't change that fact. You are a straight A student, captain of the football team, and have an almost perfect record. I am not – none of us are – letting you throw your future in the bush just because your mother is a bitch. So you're going to take your stuff out of Aden's room and put them in your room, right away.”

Ontari, in the end, has no choice but to accept their offer. She doesn't want to depend on anyone, sure, but she also doesn't want to stop high school right in the middle or sleep in the streets – and, honestly, anyone who has the courage to call her mother (she's one hell of a scary woman) a bitch earns her eternal respect.

She moves in, and stays, for the remaining years of high school they have to attend to, promising herself to get a scholarship or make some sort of plans for college. Something that wouldn't need the Griffin-Woods household family to do more than what they're already doing for her.

 

Aden is seventeen, soon going to be eighteen, and Ontari didn't get her scholarship.

Not that she didn't try, at more than one university, with her perfect grades and amazing high school football career. But it would seem that her mother decided to be a bitch in any kind of possible way, and some university had called and told her that they couldn't give her a scholarship, because someone was againt it.

At least colleges were polite enough to send her a letter announcing that they had already given their scholarships to other promising athletes.

She guesses she should have expected it. After her mom kicked her out, she started to let her name be known around the country. Nia Queen was already a political figure in town, but since she didn't have a teenager on her toes anymore, she could simply go big and make it national. And uses her influence to make Ontari's life some kind of hell.

Roan, himself, didn't give two fucks about it as he left the country and started his own start-up somewhere in Europe. His mom could do whatever the hell she wanted. He cared about Ontari, though, and tried his best for her, sending money every month. Half of the few hundred he could give her went to Clarke and Lexa, and the other half she saved. But it wasn't enough for tuition.

Ontari sighs, laying down on Aden's bed while the boy read the last letter she received. He tosses it away and sighs as well.

“What are you going to do?”

Ontari gives it some thought before she sighs again. She knows exactly what she is going to do, but there is not a single soul in the house who's going to like it.

She got the idea from Octavia. Aden's godmother didn't have a good childhood: her father was out of the picture for as long as she could remember, and her mother a prostitute. Her and Bellamy survived more than lived, and when their mom passed away, Octavia was fourteen and Bellamy barely nineteen. For a few months, they shared Clarke's roof, Abby taking her daughter's best friends under her wings the best she could. But the best she could wasn't going to pay for Octavia's every need. So after three months, Bellamy left, only leaving a letter behind him. He joined the military.

Ontari did some research: if she is to engage herself for six years, she would get a salary, and they would pay for her tuition. Basically, while she would have to stay in the military for six years, she would get out of there with money on the side and enough to go to college. She would be twenty-four, and she would be able to go to college or to find a new job or something. Or stay in the military, if she felt like it.

Now, are the Griffin-Woods family going to let her go, or is Aden going to hold her captive in the garage is a question Ontari is pretty sure of the answer to.

“I don't know,” the brunette says to the boy, “something crazy probably.”

 

Aden is eighteen and refuses to sleep in his bedroom. The boy has been sleeping with Ontari for the past week.

Him and Tris, after hours of talk and probably as many tears, decided to break things of.

It's not that it wasn't working, nor that they didn't love each anymore, but they were both going to be far away from each other.

Too far away.

Tris is going to study sports science in a small town that's five hours away from home, and Aden is going for an art major and a history minor in a bigger town six hours away from home, in the opposite direction.

They acted the best they could, both smiling and sharing one last kiss, but as soon as Aden was back home, he broke down in tears and he refused to go back in his room ever since.

His room holds too many memories. The first time she slept over, the first time he showed her his paintings, and so many other firsts he could still perfectly picture between those walls. So, he doesn't go there and waits for the day he leaves for college, ready to do something new, to move on from high school and from Tris – well at least he hopes it will help.

The boy is reading in Ontari's bed on a Friday night when Ontari comes in and sits on the edge of the bed.

“I'm joining the marines,” she says, and Aden drops his book on his face.

Her plan makes sense to the boy. She'll join the marines, study on her own a few subjects she has interest in, put money aside, try not to get killed if she has to go on risky missions, serve for six years, and then go to college and major in political sciences. Then, she'll kick her mom's ass.

It makes sense, and Ontari is so sure of herself that Aden can't really say anything against it. So when the time comes to announce it to his moms, the boy backs Ontari up. Just like she did with Dax, just like she did when he broke up with Tris, he backs her up the best he can.

Clarke screams a lot that night, the most Aden has ever heard her. Lexa is calmer but as pissed as Clarke is. It's not that they don't want Ontari to be independent, not at all. Clarke can understand the wish of only depending on yourself, but they both hoped that Ontari would have trusted them more. They can take care of her, of her tuition; they can send her to college.

The younger woman shakes a no with her head and takes a deep breath before she starts talking again, voice confident.

“It has nothing to do with the trust I have in you. Believe me, I trust you more than I ever trusted my own mother. This is about me and the trust I have in me, whether I can do it or not. And about the fact that you have Aden going to college who's going to need money, even with his scholarship. And you did a lot for me already. It's time for me to give back. Use the money you put aside for me and go on some vacations or some shit.”

In the end, Clarke and Lexa accept the situation, defeated. Lexa helps Ontari with the paperwork and everything she needs, and a few weeks later, she enrolls. She hugs Clarke and Lexa together tightly, whispers a quiet “thanks moms” that puts Clarke on the verge of tears, then lets go of them and goes to Aden. She ruffles his hair with a smile and asks him to grow up while she's away for the next fourteen weeks.

“Don't shoot yourself,” he answers as he swats her hand away.

Ontari bobs her head approvingly and they share a quick hug before she bids her goodbye and leaves.

The house has never seemed so empty to Aden before.

 

Aden is eighteen and moving into his dorm, his moms on his toes as they carry boxes of clothes and books into his room.

It's simple and plain and almost empty. His roommate is not here yet, but he has a good feeling about it – no one can be worse than Ontari when she wakes up anyway.

He has good feeling about this year as well, about college. He picked subjects he is passionate about, has a scholarship, will make new friends probably easily, and while, somewhere in the corner of his brain, he still thinks of Tris, he knows it's getting better and that, sooner rather than later, all that will remain are the happy memories the two shared together. Ontari is just a phone call away, from 7pm to 9pm every day, and they send each other pictures of their lives every day.

What scares the boy, though, is that, for the first time in his life, he is going to be away from his moms for more than a weekend. It's a weird feeling for him. Somehow it's freeing because he will be living alone and making new experiences, but it's also the scariest thing that has happened to him.

All of his memories are full of his moms, of waffle-makers and paint on the walls and a stuffed lion and raccoon. Aden's eyes suddenly open wide because said lion and raccoon were in Ontari's bedroom, and he doesn't remember packing them, and shit.

“Moms!” he calls in the hallway of his dormitory, looking for his parents, and Lexa walks toward him with a box in arms, handing it to the blond boy.

“You okay, little one?”

“My plushes! They were in Ontari's room. I think I forgot them, and-”

“Breath, love,” Clarke says as she reaches the room herself, a bag in hand, “here they are.”

“Thank fuck.”

“You need to stop swearing,” Lexa scolds, and Aden rolls his eyes.

“Ontari needs to stop swearing.”

“You both need to stop swearing.”

“Blame the marines.”

“Sure, who do I address my complaint to?” Lexa asks, and Aden laughs a bit while Clarke takes her hand in hers and squeezes it.

“No complaining to the military. And stop swearing in front of your mom, Aden.”

Aden rolls his eyes again and looks at the room, at the boxes and bags scattered around the floor.

“Is everything here?” he asks, and Clarke nods.

“The last one was the plushes.”

Aden nods and looks over at his mom. He's ready, but not ready yet. He feels weird. He wants to go, but doesn't want them to leave, and Clarke seems to read that on him as she smiles and look at Lexa.

“How about we all go get some ice scream before we leave?”

“Sure.” Lexa nods, and she squeezes Clarke's hand tighter in hers.

Honestly, they are not ready to let him go yet, either.

“Let's goooooooo,” Aden cheers happily and pushes his moms out of the room before closing the door behind him.

Clarke takes his hand with her free one and squeezes it gently as soon as he is walking next to her, and Aden squeezes back, not minding the looks students and parents in the hallway are giving them.

 

His parents are the best thing that has ever happened to him, and whoever doesn't agree with him can go to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- the end 
> 
> I hope you guys liked the chapter and I hope that, no matter how late I was, you're happy about the update. 
> 
> Let me know what your thoughts are in the comment section. Kudos are appreciated as well. 
> 
> Comme yell at me at @myfringershurtsobad on tumblr, love you all !

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it guys ! Feedbacks, kudos and comments are welcome, and I love you all very much.  
> Come visit me @myfringershurtsobad on tumblr !


End file.
